


GF 101

by xax



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Anal Sex, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Rimming, Size Difference, Sounding, Threesome - M/M/M, Weird Animal Dicks, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 19:52:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 42,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12043071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xax/pseuds/xax
Summary: Squall only realizes he's attracted to big monstrous Guardian Forces once Ifrit's got him pinned to a wall, but after that he learns most GFs have little problem... accommodating humans in their own way.





	1. Fire Cavern

**Author's Note:**

> For the record, I wrote this about ten years ago, and it's been sitting solely on the dessicated skeleton of what was once adultfanfiction.net since then. In the interest of centralizing all my fanfics, I'm posting it here, but don't expect any updates beyond the existing four chapters.

Squall's forehead still hurt. Here it was, the afternoon of the SeeD exam, and he _still_ hadn't managed to get his prerequisites done. He'd planned to finish the last few tasks this morning, but Seifer just had to pull that stunt of his and put Squall in the infirmary for most of the day. Now he had only a few _hours_ to take and file his tests and, worst of all, Prof. Trepe seemed to think he'd need an escort as he hurried from task to task around the Garden, just in case... what? Just in case he passed out from his head wound and fell into the water? And had volunteered herself for the cause. He really had no clue why she was following him around, trying to talk to him as often as not.

He was certain the growing pain in his head was due less to taking a sword to the face and more because of Prof. Trepe's high-pitched giggle, which she employed every time she thought she'd said something funny. Squall stomped back to the second floor classroom, a veritable stormcloud of grumpiness over his head.

According to his itinerary (which he had written a week ago and now even looking at the TO BE COMPLETED BY dates made him feel guilty) the only requirement for the SeeD exam he had left was the most challenging of the bunch— capture a mid-level Guardian Force and utilize its junction techniques (with elemental or status junctions worth extra credit).

Part of the reason that Balamb Garden was established, in fact, on Balamb Island was that practically every cave, forest, shore, and nook & cranny on the island had its own patron GF, which made procuring Forces for prospective SeeD members relatively easy. Squall didn't know the details; something about indigenous earth-worshiping cultures that had attracted or created Forces which had remained to the present day.

At any rate, he had jotted down a few prospective sites when he was doing his initial planning, but with his current time crunch it looked like the nearest option was the only one feasible— all the other sites were at least a half-day hike into the more remote parts of the island, whereas the Fire Cavern was maybe a half-hour walk, through a field (and around a forest), away from the Garden.

And it looked like Prof. Trepe intended to follow him all the way _there_ too. If he had known that (and felt like blowing his chances of becoming a SeeD for the next six months) he would have picked the furthest site, the one on a sheer cliff, against the sea, on the other side of the mountain, just for spite. Well, maybe not really. She was a decent teacher, but she just kept _talking_ to him, like she wanted to be his _friend_. Squall's life was _so hard_.

* * *

Prof. Trepe did, in fact, come with him all the way to the Fire Cave, giving advice on how to bat off mosquitoes and caterpillars on the way. Admittedly, the mosquitoes in Balamb were about the size of Squall's head, and the caterpillars were about twice the size of his entire _body_ , but nevertheless he figured it should be assumed he could take care of himself.

On the far side of the forest, the field changed to scrubland broken up by rocky cliffs, ranging in height from a few feet tall to twenty or thirty. After a few minutes awkwardly scrabbling around and over the landscape, Squall found the cavern entrance. (Actually, Prof. Trepe found the entrance, but Squall was the one who found the right _cliff_ , if only by almost breaking his neck [and ripping up the knees of his pants, too] falling down it. It still counted.) It was bare and rocky, with boulders strewn around a dark hole in the cliff.

Prof. Trepe looked around, then coughed anxiously to attract Squall's attention (who was, as usual, doing his best to ignore her). "There should be some Garden staff waiting here to time your test...."

Squall felt like the temperature around him dropped by a good ten degrees. He was already pressed for time; if someone else's incompetence meant he was going to be stuck waiting here while everyone else went and took the SeeD exam he was going to make the responsible parties _very uncomfortable_.

Prof. Trepe went on, oblivious to Squall's sudden frozen posture. "...You did tell the staff you were headed to the Fire Cavern this afternoon, right?"

Oh god, and the responsible party was _him_. At Squall's stricken expression, Prof. Trepe raised a glove-covered hand to her mouth as she let out a shrill giggle. Squall glared as well as he could, inside mentally kicking himself. Oh god, he could feel his cheeks heating up; he really hoped his blush wasn't visibly obvious.

"Well, we all make mistakes from time to time, even my star student." Prof. Trepe thought for a moment. "It's not strictly to regulation, but I could stand by outside to time and grade you."

Okay, and Squall forgave every bad thing he had ever thought about Prof. Trepe if she was going to work this out for him.

"But!" she exclaimed, turning to face Squall (as opposed to her regular oratory position, which was 'standing and speechifying to invisible masses', Squall thought, then remembered he should be feeling charitable towards her right now and felt somewhat guilty), "This is dangerous. You're supposed to have a SeeD member escort you in the event this poses too much of a challenge for you alone. Although personally I think you're an exemplary student and this won't be a problem for you, professionally I discourage you from doing this— it's far better to wait, even if you have to miss a SeeD exam, than to try a test like this alone and die." Then she tittered again, totally destroying the stern look she had going for a moment. "But I know you, Squall. You're probably relieved that you don't have anyone tagging along." (Which was true, but he wouldn't have said it to her face.) "So, do you want to go in alone?"

Squall stared at her for a moment, then nodded. "...Yes."

Prof. Trepe brought up a hand to cover her mouth again, this time in an attempt to hide her broad grin. "Of course. Now, you must select a time limit— time spent before emerging from the cave with the GF. Technically, you'll pass even if you fail this time limit, so you'll still be eligible for the SeeD exam, but you'll receive zero points on your grade."

Squall squinted at the sun, then looked at his watch. Really, if he wanted to get back to the Garden in time for the evening SeeD exam, he'd have to be relatively quick no matter what. Not to mention he'd never been inside the cavern and knew nothing about the standing conditions. "...25 minutes?" He tried to flatten the end of the sentence so it wasn't too obviously a question, but Prof. Trepe just smiled, shook her head and ushered him towards the cave entrance. She tapped a few buttons on her wristwatch.

"The timer starts now. Good luck, Squall."

He had already turned and was almost inside the cave. He nodded, hoping Prof. Trepe wasn't expecting much of a response.

* * *

The first thing he noticed was that the cave was disconcertingly hot. A warm breeze was wafting out from the cavern entrance as he reached the threshold, but as he walked deeper into the darkened corridor (stumbling on stray rocks a few times) the breeze rapidly went from 'warm' to 'uncomfortably hot'. He was already hot and sweaty from the trek over, but he was definitely sweating more now, and he hadn't even rounded the first bend on the tunnel.

Which lead to the second thing he noticed about the cavern: there was a dull reddish glow coming from around the bend ahead, outlining the rocky walls in dim light. On one hand, the flashlight he had brought with him was a tiny, almost useless affair. On the other hand, this was incredibly foreboding.

As he rounded the corner it felt like he was hit in the chest with a wave of heat. The narrow tunnel opened to a wide underground cavern, floored with glowing magma going down to unknown depths. He could feel sweat break out all over his body. It was a good thing he'd brought water with him for the walk over; if he'd tried this dehydrated he would have probably passed out halfway through.

The only path available, a rough rocky stone path raised just a few feet above the magma, snaked out between looming stalagmites to the center of the cavern. The air was rippling in the heat, but it looked like there was a larger island in the center of the cavern which, if accurate, was probably the way to go.

His heavy leather jacket was already sticking uncomfortably to his arms, though. He shrugged it off, grimacing as it caught against his sweaty arms. He awkwardly rolled his shoulders to free his arms, then tugged the tangled garment off the rest of the way. His sleeveless undershirt below his jacket was already going translucent from sweat. He stretched his shoulders and neck, then tossed his jacket across his left forearm and continued into the cavern.

There came a strange skittering sound behind him as he moved and he whirled around, dropping his jacket and pulling out his gunblade in one smooth motion. A strange monster descended from the shadows above, with three leathery bat wings as well as three winged swan wings whirling around a demonic face. Squall stumbled back, away from it, then darted forward with his sword poised to strike. He clove the monster in two just as it started to sparkle with magical energy. The two halves of the monster drifted to the ground, one wing landing in the magma and combusting with a short, bright flare.

He stood for a second, breathing heavily. That hadn't even been a proper fight, but already the heat had him out of breath and panting. He looked over at where his jacket had fallen and decided to leave it; he needed to keep his weapon out in case more monsters attacked, and the jacket was too cumbersome to carry if he wasn't going to wear it. During the fight his undershirt had rucked up against his sweaty stomach, and he pulled it back down, brushing his knuckles against his skin as he did so.

The humidity from the sea made the heat even more oppressive, although rare whirls of air through the cavern sent his flesh pricking up as they blew past him. He could feel sweat trickle between his shoulderblades and into the damp fabric of his undershirt as he started deeper into the cave. His leather pants were starting to bunch together at his thighs with every step. He automatically unclipped his canteen from his belt and took a quick swallow; it really would do no good at all to get dehydrated.

Only a half-dozen meters brought him to a point where the cavern ceiling rose up higher, leaving no stalagmites or stalactites between him and the magma sea. The path itself was only a meter or two wide, and it got even hotter as he passed the last of the stalagmites. He irritably pushed his clumped, sweaty hair out of his eyes and peered into the distance. The air was hazy and rippling, but he could definitely make out a large island at the center of the magma, surrounded by large pillars of stone. As he looked, though, he became aware of a small, irregularly moving red blob coming from the side, heading towards him.

He spun to face the thing as it bounced onto the path. It spat out a stream of fire as it stilled and Squall fell back, narrowly dodging the flame. It was a roughly spherical monster, with mottled red hide that elongated into rough spikes on its back and a twisted face on the front. He grasped the hilt of his sword with sweaty fingers and dashed forward, cutting downward at the thing, but it bobbed out of the way and he only sliced open a hissing cut in its side, which quickly sealed up. As if in response, the thing puffed out its cheeks and swelled up, quickly doubling in size before it exhaled another large gust of fire at Squall.

The heat from the fire didn't feel hotter than the rest of the air inside the cave, but he felt his hair singe and curl as he rolled backwards. He cast a spare ice spell in one direction and lunged the other, and managed to bring his sword down heavily on the distracted monster. His sword cut straight through its apparently hollow body and into the rock floor below. It hissed and shook, trapped on his gunblade, then began to glow and expand ominously as Squall pulled his blade out of it. He stumbled backwards again as one of his belts caught against the rocky ground and swung him off-balance. The monster exploded violently just as the tip of his sword emerged from the cut, and the rush of superheated air burnt off the short hairs on his hands and arms. He rolled to the ground, hissing in pain as his suddenly uncooperative fingers dropped his weapon. He mentally pulled up a cure spell before his skin blistered.

The Cure spell spun around him like a vitalizing breeze, but the cool, crisp feeling of the spell faded soon and the oppressive heat of the cavern afterward felt even worse. He was still sweating and now covered in soot from the dead monster. He remained on the ground for a second as he tried to catch his breath in the scorching air.

As he got to his feet, a shifting weight and jingling sound called his attention to the ground, where one of his belts had fallen. A piece of the monster's hide had burnt right through one of his belts, leaving it broken on the ground. Squall sighed, but left it there. He unbuckled his other extra belt and left it with; it had tripped him up during the fight and he couldn't afford to have that happen again. He wiped his sooty hands on his undershirt, grimacing at the dark handprints they left, then at his hands, which were still covered in soot.

After a second of thought, he pulled his undershirt up over his head and left it there, too. It was already translucent with sweat, covered in soot, and burnt through in a few places, he didn't think it would be any use. The heat against his bare chest felt just as sweltering as when he had a shirt on, but the breeze against his torso as he moved was mildly refreshing, even as it caused goosebumps to prick up. He looked down and blushed as he felt his nipples harden against the air, tiny droplets of sweat dropping across them. He reached over to pick his sword from the ground and his hand left a long trail of dark soot across his chest. He absentmindedly trailed his free hand against his chest, scratching against his heavy pectorals. The cave felt like a gigantic steam room— the humidity from the sea met with the magma to make a layer of thick, humid air. He was sweating and out of breath, but felt surprisingly relaxed. But then he shook his head, trying to clear it.

Squall grabbed his blade and hurried on, again aware of his time limit— he wasn't sure how long he'd been in the cave, but it couldn't have been more than a minute or two, even though it already felt like hours. He blew out an annoyed breath as sweat trickled down his back. He reached one hand back to scratch his lower back, only realizing as he drew his hand back that he had just smeared the soot around more.

Moving further, he came to a split in the path, one going a short way until dead-ending at an outcropping of rock, the other heading to the large stone island in the center of the cavern. He headed towards the latter path, but dove to the ground as he felt a wind in the superheated air above him. There was another blast of air and a shrieking cry as he rolled over and got to his knees, scanning above him for whatever it had been that had attacked him.

Two large bats hung in the air, each flapping their large, translucent wings to stay above the magma sea. One of them swooped down and Squall swung out of its way, but its claws still clipped his left shoulder, leaving behind a thin cut that rapidly swelled with blood. Squall grit his teeth and cast an angry bolt of lightning at the retreating bat, striking it down in midflap. The other bat shrieked out and dove towards him, but this time he was ready and swung out, cutting through one of its wings so that it pinwheeled and hit the ground hard, flapping across the ground until it fell into the magma with a shriek.

With his last dive to the ground, he had covered his torso with reddish dust, although already trails of sweat were drawing clean paths through the mess. He almost raised a hand to wipe the dust away, remembering this time that his hands were still sooty, and equally dusty now, anyway. The scratch on his shoulder was still bleeding slowly, but it had been a glancing blow and it was a pretty shallow cut, so he didn't think it was worth spending a spell on it.

He hurried towards the center of the cavern, sword in hand. His left hand trailed across his stomach, ruffling his sparse belly hair. He was sure his face was flushed red now; on top of everything else he could feel his cock twitch and lengthen inside his sweaty underwear. He edged his hand under the waistband of his pants, pressing the tips of his fingers against the red marks his belt had made against his skin.

His belt had been folded and shifted when he fought, and now it was uncomfortably tight and pressing against his skin. His heavy leather pants were scuffed all over and even more ripped up at the knees now after taking a few dives to the ground. They were covered in dust, too. Squall loosened his belt and his pants slipped down to a more comfortable position, hanging off his hips. The inside folds of his pants were slick with sweat and felt absolutely terrible as he shifted his pants around. He paused for a second, then removed his belt, taking the final swig of water from his canteen before dropping it on the path like with the rest of his garments, and let his pants sag further, letting more of his skin access the open air. His legs felt chafed all over from his sweaty skin rubbing against the inner leather.

Sweat dripped into his eyes as he looked down and he cursed, then wiped a hand across his face that came back dripping with sweat. At this point, his sweating skin didn't feel sticky or oily, just _wet_. And clean compared to the soot and the dirt he had sticking to his body. He ran a hand through his dripping hair, which was plastered to his skull with sweat. His hand came back wet and clean, and he was suddenly aware of how gritty his hair would be feeling once he got out of the cavern.

He blew out an annoyed breath. This morning already he'd had his face sliced open, and later on he was looking forward to facing off against a highly-trained hostile army in the SeeD exam. But first, he had to finish this mission— just taking on a minor deity— and get _out_. He stomped down the final few meters of the rocky path, until he was standing on the central island.

It was surrounded by rocky pillars that reminded him of bones, and at the very center was a circular hole that went straight down into the ground. He walked closer, peering down into its depths, but jolted back when a pillar of flame burst out of it, followed by a gigantic body.

Large, curved horns rose from below, a rough black color, followed by a massive head. The monster had reddish skin, fiery yellow eyes and a bestial muzzle lined with sharp teeth. His ears were pointed at the tips and had several golden hoops pierced through the lobes and outer shell to match the thick bull lead through his nose. Surrounding his face was a mane of reddish hair, flowing out behind his body like fire. Squall swallowed and grasped his gunblade tight, bringing it to bear as what could only be the Guardian Force Ifrit emerged from the flames.

His entire body was the same dusky red color, and as his unnaturally long arms cleared the lip of the hole he reached up, massive muscles contracting, to grasp at the lip of the hole. He dug his taloned claws into the ground, then pulled himself up into the air to land in a crouch in front of the hole. His legs, even though they were each larger around than Squall's entire body, seemed thin and spindly compared to his overmuscled arms and chest.

Ifrit rose his shaggy head into the air and roared, a sound that echoed through the cavern and sent pebbles dancing on the ground, then lunged forward at Squall, who dove to the left just in time to avoid a sweep from Ifrit's dark claws. As Ifrit drew back from his first attack, Squall rapidly tried to think of battle tactics. Ifrit was about twice as tall as Squall was, but since he was constantly hunched over it would probably be possible to try to attack his head directly— Squall's train of thought was interrupted as Ifrit swung out again, and this time Squall blocked his strike with his gunblade. The sheer force behind the swing drove him staggering backwards, his arms aching from the impact.

"Impudent human!" Ifrit roared out, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he howled. Squall circled Ifrit, hoping to get behind him to attack, only to be foiled when Ifrit swiftly spun and knocked Squall supine with a single swipe of his hand.

Squall wheezed, coughing, as he tried to draw breath back into his lungs. He looked around, seeing his gunblade on the ground at the edge of the island, knocked against one of the rocky pillars. He rolled to his feet, only to be thrown back to the ground by a swing of Ifrit's hands. This time Ifrit managed to pin him to the ground; one of his massive hands spanned across Squall's chest; his thumb notched into the ground right by Squall's ear, crunching and crackling as Ifrit closed his fist around Squall's torso. His fingers dug against the left side of his ribcage, right under his arm; the massive bracelet of gold around Ifrit's wrist digging pressing warmly against his stomach. The smooth, thick skin of Ifrit's palm rubbed against Squall's chest and peaked nipples. The surge of sensation flooded through Squall's body, hardening his cock, and he bit the inside of his lip to stop himself from moaning out. Squall struggled, rubbing further against Ifrit's hand, kicking out at Ifrit's forearm, but all that accomplished was Ifrit using his other hand to pin Squall's legs to the ground.

Ifrit glowered down at Squall and bared his alarmingly sharp teeth. "You dare fight _me_?" he said, and even when he wasn't roaring the sound of his voice made Squall's ears ring.

The looming GF actually seemed to expect an answer to his question, even through from Squall's point of view the fight was ostensibly over. "...Yes?" he panted out, after an awkward pause. He kept struggling against Ifrit's hands, trying to ignore how his cock was hard and slick just from humping it against Ifrit's hand, or how every time he moved his torso his stiff nipples rubbed against the rough skin of Ifrit's palm.

Ifrit raised his head up to let out a deep, booming laugh, and Squall took that as his chance. Rapidly, he let off an Ice spell at Ifrit's chest, the magical cold freezing a chunky spear of ice that crashed against Ifrit's chest. Ifrit pulled his hands up to grasp at the rapidly-melting ice, his laugh turning into an angry cry. Squall rocked to his feet again and ran to where his gunblade was stuck embedded into the ground, peppering Ifrit's body with Ice spells as he ran. Ifrit had started to respond with fire of his own, and half the time the chunks of ice sizzled and vaporized before they impacted his body. In fact, it looked like the other half of the time all Squall was managing to hit Ifrit with was icewater.

Ifrit let out another angry roar and charged at Squall again, but this time he was somewhat ready and slid out of the way as Ifrit hit one of the rocky pillars, the impact blasting great chunks of it apart. Squall swung with his blade, cutting a slice in Ifrit's flank that bled dark blood, then moved away from the Guardian Force, casting more as he went.

The two clashed again near the center of the island, uncomfortably close to the yawning pit at the very center, and this time Squall used his smaller size to his advantage, clamoring across Ifrit's body as the beast struck out at him. Despite the situation— angry GF trying to claw him apart on a small rock in the center of a magma sea— Squall found each rough contact between them pulling at something below his stomach; his slide over Ifrit's slick muscled back was a lot sloppier than it had to be, part because his cock was half-hard, trapped uncomfortably in his sagging pants, part because he kept staring more at Ifrit's shifting muscles and less at his claws. Ifrit growled below him as Squall slipped over his shoulder and his cock twitched. Ifrit's pivot swung him off the muscled GF and back to the ground, his legs buckling slightly as he landed.

If he had thought he was hot and sweaty just _walking_ around in the cavern, this proved him wrong. His hair was matted flat against his head, and he was dripping sweat. He was panting hard; the heat and the steaming failures of Ice spells were not doing good things to his ability to respirate. He couldn't judge how Ifrit was faring, but he was bleeding and wet and snarling. They were at opposite sides of the island, although that still put them about four meters away from each other, maximum. Ifrit was crouched to the ground, almost pawing at the ground like a bull. And it was all Squall could do to keep his sword up and in his hand; his arms ached and his hands were slippery with sweat and water.

Ifrit tensed, his paws catching against the rough ground, then lunged forward, batting Squall against one of the rocky pillars and knocking his gunblade from his hand again. His claws curled around Squall's torso, the thick black nail of his thumb scraping across his chest, close to one of his hardened nipples. Squall groaned automatically and panted, his struggling against Ifrit's grasp only making him curl tighter; his rough, pebbled skin rubbing against Squall's body.

Ifrit stared down at Squall, something halfway between a leer and a smirk on his face. "Many of your... SeeDs have come to fight me," he started, and Squall stilled at his voice. "but none before have responded like this:", he continued as he slid his free hand almost softly up Squall's leg. He cupped Squall's trapped cock, his fingers spread across his thighs, two rubbing beneath his confined balls.

Looking aside, Squall flushed red even as he ground his cock against Ifrit's palm. Ifrit rocked his hand back obligingly, although his other hand, clamping Squall's arms to his sides, remained unmoving. He arched back, minutely increasing the contact between his chest and Ifrit's constraining hand.

"Uh..." Squall said, unable to think of any possible rejoinder but nevertheless knowing that Ifrit surely expected _some_ response from him. He glanced to the side, avoiding making eye contact with Ifrit even as he continued rubbing his palm against Squall's cock.

Ifrit made an awful choking sound it took Squall a second to realize was _laughter_ , then spoke again: "You humans amuse me so; you all avoid doing what you desire." Ifrit fell silent for a moment, his hands still rubbing softly against Squall's body. "But surely you desire _me_ , do you not?"

This was a question Squall figured he could answer easily: "Yes," he groaned out, face red.

Ifrit laughed again, his voice deep and loud. "So take it—" But then he leaned close, so his broad, flat nose was almost touching Squall's; his hot breath blowing out across Squall's face. "Or perhaps I should take _you_?"

Squall opened his mouth to respond or maybe just make vague desperate noises, but Ifrit tilted his head down that final fraction and brought their lips together. With the size difference, it was more like Squall's lips against Ifrit's _teeth_ , as Ifrit's lips covered most of Squall's face, from the bottom of his nose to just above his chin. But Ifrit groaned against Squall's mouth, his tongue prodding against his lips, parting them to delve into Squall's mouth.

Squall moaned, mouth opening wide as he leaned toward Ifrit, kissing him messily back. Ifrit kept his hands busy even as he kissed and licked at Squall's face, tugging and rubbing along Squall's bare skin. His tongue was long and slippery as he fed it to Squall, mashing it against his teeth and Squall's own squirming tongue. Squall groaned again, his breath hitching, and struggled against Ifrit's grasp to free his arms to pull Ifrit closer. Ifrit kept him pinned, struggling, as he kissed him wetly, a vibrating chuckle deep in his throat. But Ifrit drew back, pulling apart even as he licked his lips looking down at Squall.

Ifrit loosed his massive hand from around Squall, who sank to the ground, legs trembling. Ifrit crouched with him, his other hand still groping at Squall's crotch. Squall reached out slowly and placed a hand lightly on Ifrit's chest, spreading his fingers out until his palm was flat against the skin. Ifrit's skin was velvety, covered in tiny reddish hairs, still slick from their fight. Squall slid his hand across Ifrit's dusky hide to the tuft of hair on his chest, then down across his muscled stomach.

Squall stared down at Ifrit's muscled thighs; at Ifrit's cock, half-hard. It jutted out from a dense thatch of pubic hair, a drop of thick fluid clinging from the hooded head. Squall stopped with his hand against Ifrit's abdomen, wiry hairs between his fingers. Ifrit rumbled above him, his hand stroking Squall's cock through his pants, and Squall felt heat rise in his face. He unbuttoned his pants as he grasped Ifrit's cock, the rough sweaty hair tangling his fingers. He could see tremors run through Ifrit's legs as he began feeling his cock, hefting its weight in his hand. It was thick; even half-hard he couldn't wrap his fingers around the heavy shaft.

Squall reached up, across Ifrit's clawed hand now poking holes in his underwear, to grasp loosely around Ifrit's wrist, just below his heavy golden bracelet. He slid his other hand across Ifrit's length, fingers becoming slick with the musky precome slowly oozing from the head of his cock, then reached down to tug as his low-hanging balls, each one alone more than a handful.

Ifrit pulled up and Squall cried out, surprised, as Ifrit picked him up one-handed. Squall automatically grabbed at Ifrit to keep his balance, one hand gripping Ifrit's wrist, the other, his thigh. Ifrit balanced Squall in his hand, his ass spread on his palm as his claws curled against his back; Ifrit's thumb curling up between his thighs to press against Squall's inner thigh, the very tip of his thumb still rubbing against his cock. He reached out with his other hand and pulled down at Squall's pants, already spread around his thighs, which slid loosely down his legs to catch on his boots. He pulled carefully at Squall's underwear for a moment, then grasped the waistband firmly and pulled, ripping it to pieces with a loud tear. Squall's cock flopped out, resting along the indentation made by Ifrit's thick talon grasping Squall's muscled thigh.

Ifrit brought his arm close and opened his mouth wide, the sight of his many sharp teeth sending Squall's adrenaline spiking for a moment until his tongue lolled out to lick its way down Squall's sweaty chest. Ifrit's long, slick tongue slid across his chest, first to one nipple and then the other, each touch sending a rough spike of pleasure through his body. His tongue was hot and slick, and Ifrit's moist puffs of breath raised goosebumps for a moment as he lapped at his skin. Squall felt a rising thrill in the pit of his stomach as Ifrit lapped across his stomach, like some coil winding beneath his skin.

The massive Guardian Force leaned down and licked Squall's hardening cock. His thick, long tongue slid around the base of his cock as he drizzled saliva over it and Squall let out an undignified moan, his breath hitching halfway through. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing evenly; the scorching heat made him feel lightheaded and Ifrit's slick tongue on his cock distracted him from his growing breathlessness. Though he hardly noticed it, Ifrit lowered him closer to the ground, until his boots caught against the floor. Ifrit kept him on his broad hand as he stooped over to continue licking at Squall's cock. Only the final contact with the ground as Ifrit slid his hand out from under Squall's ass registered, and then only so much as to arc his hips up, pressing his cock closer to Ifrit's mouth.

Ifrit reached over and wrapped a hand around one of Squall's ankles, his massive fingers curling lightly against Squall's muscled leg, then pulled up, first removing the tangle of his pants as carefully as he could (which meant adding quite a few more holes in the leather), then tugging Squall's leg up into the air, sending him sprawling on his back in the dust. Ifrit licked down across Squall's balls and then between his legs, and Squall let out a shout as the tip of Ifrit's tongue settled between his ass cheeks.

Squall struggled again, but when Ifrit forced his tongue into the tight ring of Squall's asshole he let out a high-pitched cry, moaning and pushing back against Ifrit's bulk. Ifrit grinned against Squall's leg and bent down, forcing his long tongue deeper, dumping more slick saliva into Squall's ass.

Squall huffed loudly, awkwardly scrabbling with his hands against Ifrit's legs. He could see only the crown of Ifrit's stooped head between his raised legs, pressed close to his ass. He tried to sit up, only to have Ifrit growl incoherently at him and pull him up, Ifrit himself rolling back in a pile of limbs, so he ended up sprawled against Ifrit's body, prone on Ifrit's neck and chest, with his legs splayed around Ifrit's curved horns, Ifrit's hands still grasped around his ankles. He was facing Ifrit's cock, the thick length still only half-hard; the heavy foreskin half-covering the head, dark purple and with a glinting golden piercing still mostly covered. He grabbed at Ifrit's cock as his tongue shifted deep inside him, pulling another broken cry out of him as his cock drooled out a string of precome onto Ifrit's stomach.

He slid a hand up Ifrit's cock to feel the thick veins running across the shaft and spread his legs as Ifrit continued licking and slobbering at his ass. Ifrit had hard metal piercings on the shaft of his cock, a series of golden barbels up the underside of his cock, and his cock twitched in Squall's hands as he ran his fingers over them. Ifrit pulled Squall back, sucking and biting around the rim of Squall's ass. He could feel the wet twisting of Ifrit's tongue deep inside him, and as Ifrit stooped lower his broad tongue hit some spot inside him. Squall shuddered and cried out; Ifrit's cock slipped from his fingers to bob heavily above his crotch, thick drops of precome pulling out in ribbons as they dribbled from the tip of Ifrit's cock.

It wasn't long until Squall felt a familiar tightening in his stomach, and he reached down to pump his cock for only a few strokes, until he cried out as he came. His balls pulled up tight against the base of his cock and several strings of come shot out, across Ifrit's stomach, most splattering against Ifrit's cock, webbing across the thick meat and sliding slowly into his bushy pubic hair. He felt Ifrit pull back, his tongue writhing out of Squall's ass.

Squall opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder, to where Ifrit was pulling what looked like over a foot of tongue out of his ass, saliva running down his chin and into his mane. "You are so sensitive?" he boomed out, angling his head to Squall's dick.

Squall didn't think he could blush any harder, but he managed to stammer out "Um, this is the first time I've—" before cutting himself off.

Ifrit, however, just looked pleased— which was a fairly alarming expression on him. "Then I must show you a memorable time," he growled out, his voice deeper and less deafening than usual, a massive predatory grin on his face as he continued: "As would be befitting of your... lesser experience." He released Squall's ankles and slid his hands up Squall's legs until his fists were clenched around his upper thigh, an action that coaxed a wakening stir from Squall's soft cock. Ifrit rubbed his clawed index fingers against Squall's slick hole, then carefully dug them into his loosened asshole and pulled them apart, stretching Squall's hole open. He bent down and spat into Squall's open hole, the thick saliva clinging to the inner walls of Squall's ass.

Squall cried out, looking over his shoulder as Ifrit dug his fingers deeper into his slick, loosened asshole. His dick stirred at the sight, still slick with his own come. Ifrit bent down and licked around his ass again then drew back, upright, Squall tumbling down from his perch on Ifrit's chest, and slid his hard cock against the crack of Squall's ass. Squall froze for a moment as the massive, hot flesh pressed against his spread-open asshole, his again-hard cock spitting out more precome as it happened, but Ifrit's cock slid up between Squall's legs to press against Squall's jutting dick.

Ifrit's cock was a darker shade of red than the rest of his skin, and the revealed head was so dark as to be purplish. His thick foreskin was wrinkled around the flared head of his cock, slick with precome. With his foreskin pulled back he could see that Ifrit had a thick golden ring punched straight through the head of his cock, threaded through the slit and coming out through the underside. Precome was freely drizzling out of the tip, forming great stringy ropes that quickly coated Squall's cock and trickled down his inclined stomach to mix with the load he'd already shot. Ifrit pumped his cock through Squall's slick thighs a few times, splashing his precome all over Squall's legs and belly, then crouched down to slot the head against Squall's open asshole. He rubbed the head once or twice, then grasped at Squall's asshole and pulled outward as he leaned forward, forcing Squall's ass open around the bloated head of his dick.

Squall yelled out as the head slowly opened up his ass, and he hardly even noticed as his cock spewed a stringy load all over himself as Ifrit shoved his massive cock into Squall. Ifrit spit again, his saliva splattering at the rim of Squall's asshole as he pushed in. He shifted Squall around his cock minisculely, his asshole opening wider as he shuttled his cock back and forth, his talons, glossy with spit and precome, pulling Squall's ass out. The head of his dick sunk slowly into Squall's ass, which closed snugly around the thick shaft of Ifrit's cock.

Squall took deep, gulping breaths as he became used to the thick, hot cock splitting him open. His asshole spasmed around the shaft, his already slack and relaxed muscles pulled to their limit around the massive intruder. Ifrit hunched as he pushed in further, his cock slipping in more smoothly after the broad crown of his cock was inside. His slick, stringy precome helped his cock slide in, and as he fucked Squall he splattered bursts of precome against the walls of his ass, shooting with more and more force, each like a miniature orgasm for the hulking beast.

Ifrit pulled Squall closer, his mouth open as he panted with rasping breaths, and the first of the golden nubs slipped into his ass. Squall moaned out, scratching furrows in the rocky dirt of the island. Ifrit took one hand away from forcing his ass open and slid it across Squall's chest, picking up his own precome along with Squall's slick come in rough splatters, then lifted his hand up to his mouth, where he licked a broad stripe across his palm, drinking down the thick mixture.

Ifrit rocked back and forth, fucking Squall's ass with short segments of his cock, jolting Squall back with each meaty thrust deeper. The flared head of Ifrit's cock hit some barrier deep in Squall ass and they both groaned, Squall's breathy grunt drowned out by Ifrit's growling roar. He pulled out slightly, moved Squall around on his cock, then forced his cock back in, pressing deeper and deeper. Another thick piercing slipped into Squall's ass and he groaned out, his cock once again stiffening. Ifrit leered down at Squall and pressed one heavy hand against Squall's chest, preparing for the savage thrust that drove another few inches inside. Squall cried out, Ifrit's cock thumping against the inside of his body; stretching him out to fit. His ass was broken open, a slick mix of precome and saliva drooling out around the loose seal Ifrit's dick made as he pistoned through his asshole.

Squall pulled himself up to his elbows to look at the thick shaft of Ifrit's cock, focusing at how much of it was still outside his ass. Ifrit reached out and angled Squall's head up, his inhumanly-long fingers curling around Squall's chin and neck, and forced him to stare into Ifrit's eyes.

Ifrit used his other hand to grasp around Squall's waist and pull, hard, forcing most of the rest of his cock into Squall's gaping asshole in one long thrust. Squall again shouted out loudly, his cock pulsing painfully as he began to come again, shooting out only a few thin spurts of come over his chest. Almost all of Ifrit's cock was in him, only an inch or two left between Squall's obscenely stretched ass and the thick base of Ifrit's cock, covered in messy red hair.

Ifrit leaned back, pulling Squall with him until he was squatting over Ifrit's cock, his legs trembling with the effort of standing under his own weight. Ifrit roared loudly and his cock pulsed rapidly inside Squall. He felt massive bursts of fluid fill his guts, and the thicker precome drizzled out of his stretched-open ass and onto Ifrit's muscled stomach. Squall's asshole spasmed ineffectively as his legs gave out and he sank onto Ifrit's cock. The flared crown of Ifrit's cock dug through Squall's guts, forcing itself deeper as he slid slowly down, until his ass was pressed against Ifrit's massive balls, Ifrit's rough, wiry pubic hair scratching against his thighs. Ifrit waited, staring at Squall as he struggled for breath, impaled on his cock; it felt like the head of Ifrit's cock was pressing against his lungs. But slowly Squall regained his breath and sat, legs spread wide, arms loose and trembling, on Ifrit's abdomen.

Ifrit grinned at Squall, his bared teeth and lolling tongue more alarming than anything else, then curled his arms around Squall's ass and back, supporting Squall on his massive hands. He slowly pulled Squall off his cock, until the flared crown of his cock pulled Squall's asshole wide again, the thick head remaining partly inside Squall. Thick splashes of precome were constantly burbling from his cock, and the fluid spurted into Squall's ass only to drool out around the loose seal of Ifrit's cock, down the massive shaft, dripping from his wet foreskin and down onto his hairy stomach and balls.

For a second Squall stood almost upright on Ifrit's stomach, until Ifrit pulled back his hands and Squall sunk down onto his cock, unable to hold up his own weight. Now, His ass opened easily to Ifrit's cock, and when half the massive dick was lodged in his ass Ifrit thrust upwards, pulling down on Squall's shoulders to ram the remaining length of his cock into Squall's ass with one fierce thrust.

Ifrit's cock spasmed violently inside Squall's ass and he started bucking his hips. He threw his head back, making a low growl that raised in volume until it peaked at a terrible roar. Squall bounced up and down on his cock, easily a foot of cock sliding in and out of him as Ifrit roared, the massive cock inside him twitching and spasming as Ifrit started to come. The first blast erupted with the force of a punch to Squall's guts, and the second and third left him gasping for breath as Ifrit hammered his spurting cock into his guts. Thick hot come poured out around Ifrit's cock with wet slopping sounds as Ifrit continued rocking Squall back and forth.

He slowly eased Squall off his cock and with each spasm more and more come blasted out from his spurting cock, the overflow forming thick pools in the crevices of Ifrit's muscled stomach and spilling out across his body, trickling to the ground below. Eventually the broad head, flared wide outward as he came, popped out of Squall's ass, spurting burning red come all over his ass and thighs. Ifrit's roar subsided to a low growl as Squall sank down onto Ifrit's thighs, his legs giving out. Ifrit was still shooting off, his cock spurting come all across his body, coating his bestial face and monstrous chest with thick streamers of come. Ifrit wrapped a clawed hand around the base of his spurting cock and stroked it, squeezing and rubbing, sending the last thick spurts of thick, jelly-like come all over their bodies.

Eventually his orgasm died down as only trickles of thick, chunky come oozed from the distended tip of his cock. Squall attempted to wipe the come from his face and shook his hand, sending thick blobs of the stuff splattering onto Ifrit's hide. Ifrit looked up, his face streaked with white streamers, his glowing eyes seeming dim with fatigue. He pulled Squall up to lie across Ifrit's massive chest and dug two fingers deep into Squall's come-filled ass.

Squall closed his eyes and cried out as Ifrit prodded against his insides, his fingers reaching depths easily that Squall hadn't known he had until now. Ifrit's broad, blunt fingers prodded against his insides and soon he came again, his half-hard cock spasming and drawing forth only a few droplets of thin fluid, but the orgasm locked up all his muscles as at passed over him. He could feel Ifrit rumble, the vibration carrying in his chest and through Squall's body.

"Then," Ifrit started, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he panted. His voice was almost at a normal volume, so that it didn't hurt to hear his base voice while lying on his chest. "I suppose you deserve to receive my aid."

"Huh?" Squall questioned, his mind slowly coming back from the dim buzz of repeated orgasm.

Ifrit grinned, his thick lips splitting open to display sharp teeth. "Well, perhaps for a year— after that I may have to... redetermine your ability."

Ifrit raised his right hand, his fingers dripping come, to press Squall to his chest, then sat up. Squall awkwardly half-stood on Ifrit's thighs, half-dangled from his hand as Ifrit reached up with his left hand to pull Squall's gunblade from the pillar it was embedded in. Squall stepped to the ground as Ifrit released him from his grasp and crumpled under his own weight; his legs were wobbly and weak and his ass felt raw and aching. It was only a few paces to where his blade had fallen, but he progressed slowly, tensing with each step as his legs complained and his reamed-open ass sent aches through his body. He could feel a thick slickness on his legs as trails of Ifrit's come leaked from his wrecked ass and slid down the back of his thighs.

He stooped to pick up his gunblade and the resulting twinge in his lower back sent him to his knees. He readied a cure spell, only to have Ifrit's heavy hand press against his back. Squall looked over his shoulder, ignoring the shock of pain that sent through his back. Ifrit himself, however, was already dissolving into light as he prepared to relocate himself into Squall's mind. The jolting shock when he did felt like a whirlwind passing through the back of his head, and the diffuse heat that settled over his body afterwards soothed his aches and pains.

Soon Ifrit had vanished altogether, leaving Squall on his knees, naked in the center of the magma sea. His discarded pants lay nearby, ragged and dusty. Squall wasn't sure about his clothes; he was coated in come, both his own and Ifrit's, and Ifrit's load was still dripping down his legs. He attempted to wipe off the worst of the splatters of come across his body with only his hands— first the light streaks across his face, then the heavy trails seeping from his ass. His fingers effortlessly slipped into his ass as he ran his hand across it, and a heavy slug of come drooled out from between them. He hastily drew his hand back, and wiped his come-coated fingers against his thigh.

He staggered to his feet, the pain gone except for a few dull aches, and stumbled towards his pants. With Ifrit inside him, the cave felt less like an inferno and closer to pleasantly warm, but he was still sweating freely. The sweat was, at least, helping to wash away the heavy layer of mingled come coating his body, but the sticky mixture made his pants almost impossible to pull back up and even less comfortable to wear. The knees were ripped up to uselessness, too; he'd have to throw out this pair when he got back to Garden.

Squall still felt like blushing; he was sure that this had been an... unorthodox method of GF gathering. To put it bluntly, he thought, probably anyone at the Garden would be horrified if they found out and he'd probably be expelled. He figured he should feel dirty or alarmed or _used_ or _something_ , somehow... well, he did feel fairly _debauched_ ; just thinking about the dim buzz in the back of his head that was Ifrit made his cock twitch, but for all of the dizzy unexpectedness of the encounter he was looking forward to Ifrit's promised 'redetermination'.

The monsters in the cave apparently knew enough to avoid him now that Ifrit was carried with him, so Squall was lost in thought as he walked back to the entrance, absent-mindedly hitching up his pants with his belt and wiping himself down with his undershirt before tugging it on over his sweaty torso as he collected them. It was hard, at least, to see the comestains under the mess of dirt and soot he was streaked with, now. His jacket was last, dropped almost at the entrance of the cavern and untouched. The metal buckles were hot to the touch as Squall pulled it over his sweaty, wet shoulders.

The dim tunnel to the surface was positively wonderful to walk through, with the heat at his back and the rushing air to cool what little of his skin was still exposed. He could see Prof. Trepe standing at the doorway, looking anxiously between her watch and the cavern entrance.

As Squall emerged she perked up, happily pressing a button on her watch. "You just made it! I was starting to get worried, but you made it out with a little over a minute to spare!" Then she seemed to get a good look at Squall: matted, sweaty hair; ripped, punctured pants, undershirt stained with dirt and sweat. She raised a hand to her mouth and giggled. "Did you have an easy time?"

Squall paused for a moment, rustling anxiously in his clothes. "...Whatever."

That made Prof. Trepe laugh so hard she lost her balance. "Well, let's get you back to the Garden so we can test your new GF's skills and you can get cleaned up before the SeeD Exam." She turned and began efficiently working her way around the rocky bluff, heading back to Garden. Squall followed behind, attempting to avoid any strenuous rock-climbing.

* * *

Back at the Garden, there was, of course, the formality of showing that he had actually collected a GF and was capable of junctioning it.

His first proper Junction to Ifrit felt like them together in the Fire Cavern all over again, like Ifrit slamming into him, massive hands curling around his thighs as he started to come hard blasts into Squall's guts, all in one fierce half-second. He staggered backwards and fell out of battle posture as he shifted to conceal his stiffening cock.

Prof. Trepe looked up, worried, until he pulled himself into something like battle posture, perhaps with his hips canted far too far back to be regulation, and displayed the elemental junction abilities he had set out in the beginning for.


	2. Cursed Lamp

After the mad clamor of the SeeD exam at Dollet and the equally wracking SeeD ball, Squall'd felt a little harried and stressed out. Seifer had been moronic; there had been a gigantic mechanical spider... it wasn't something he wanted to reminisce about. The graduation ball had been worse; he'd been constantly aware that there were social rules and regulations in play that were all interacting with each other, and he knew just enough about it all to know he was messing it all up.

And then Prof. Trepe— Quistis, now, he supposed— had dragged him out to makeout point or whatever, just to tell him she'd been removed from teaching duty. _That_ had been awkward. He had no clue how she'd expected that particular part of the evening to go down, but the memory of leaning against one of the cold railings, Quistis beside him, the Garden spread out below, and he having absolutely no idea what he was supposed to say was still perfectly, horribly clear in his head even the next morning.

His thoughts then were a jumbled mix of hoping— _really_ hoping— she didn't have any romantic interest and sudden awareness of how even under the residual aches of the Dollet exam he could still feel the rough stretch in his ass and legs from when Ifrit had fucked him.

A night's sleep had helped with some of the building stress and panic, but he was still feeling a little overwhelmed when he woke the next morning. He was almost immediately called out to the Garden entrance via a Garden-wide announcement, which was a great start to his day.

Having Cid tell him that he'd be going on a SeeD mission did not help. As the squad leader, too. Admittedly, it was a very low-key mission, hence why he got _no notice_ and why his entire squad was two _other_ new SeeDs. Still, it was a big weight and he really did not know how to process all this in a timely manner, considering they were expected to be in Timber by _this afternoon_. His hands itched to get on a train schedule.

Cid was still talking about the mission, in fact— he'd told him everything of note already, and this really just seemed like he'd like to keep talking forever, about smaller and smaller details until he'd missed every train for sure. But eventually he finished talking and focused expectantly at him, like he was hoping Squall would have some moving words to say after being told he was being sent out on what was apparently a glorified personal favor.

Squall nodded, saluted, and turned wordlessly away, toward the car Cid had ready. Zell and Selphie fell in line behind him after mimicking his motions. After just a few paces, though, Cid cleared his throat anxiously. Squall turned, and Cid made a kind of flapping gesture with his hands that he took to mean he should come back. Zell and Selphie, meanwhile, kept walking out to the parking lot. Squall sighed inwardly, but headed back to Cid.

"Squall!" Cid said warmly, like he'd already been gone months. "I forgot to give you this." He reached into his sweater vest and pulled out a crude bronze object from an inner pocket. It took Squall a few seconds to identify it as an oil lamp, and another few awkward moments to take it from Cid's outstretched hand. Cid smiled at him when he did. "It's a cursed item, but if one with enough power uses it, it should be a great help."

Squall blinked and nodded, like he had any capacity to do anything whatsoever with cursed magic items.

"I have the utmost trust in you, Squall. Best of luck on your first mission."

Squall nodded slightly and saluted again (transferring the lamp to his off hand, first). "Yes, sir."

Cid kind of blanched at him for some reason, but after another awkward pause he nodded amiably and waved goodbye. Squall turned and left again. He tucked the lamp into a jacket pocket, unsure of what, if anything, he could do with it. He headed out to the parking lot, where Zell and Selphie were waiting for him, both leaning against a wall chatting. As Squall came closer they fell silent and stood up, again falling in line beside him.

"So what did he want?" Selphie said and Zell nodded, curious.

Squall shrugged. "Just wanted to wish us luck, I guess." On impulse, he pulled the old lamp from his jacket. "He also gave me this," he said, and brandished the lamp out, "He said it was cursed, but that it could be useful." He rolled his shoulders and made to put it back in his jacket when Zell grabbed it out of his hand.

"Woah! So you figure it's got, like, a genie inside it?" Zell rubbed the lamp excitedly, but his eager expression fell instantly when absolutely nothing happened. Squall rolled his eyes and reached out for the lamp, but Zell snatched it away as his fingertips grazed the surface. "No, hold on, I got an idea!"

"Zell...," Squall said tiredly, rubbing his forehead with a hand. Zell raised the lamp above his head and shook it around near his ear, like he was listening for something inside. Then he tried to pull the cover off of the large pouring hole at the center, frowning in concentration as it failed to come out while Squall and Selphie frowned at him.

"Zell Dincht," Selphie said, her hands on her hips, but Zell was waving her off before she even got to "don't be a meanie, Squall is—" but she stopped abruptly when Zell tipped the lamp over, like he was pouring something out of the nozzle. At first nothing happened, but after a half-second a billowing black cloud of... something poured out and pooled around Zell's feet. The cloud grew, spreading out a little but mostly climbing _up_ , enveloping his legs in darkness.

"Zell!" Squall cried, echoed by Selphie's loud gasp. He lunged forward, body-checking Zell backwards, out of the cloud. The lamp flew out of his hands, flipping end-over-end into the air, still spouting dark smoke in loops. Squall caught it out of the air as it started to arc downwards. He could see Zell's shocked expression, hear Selphie as she lunged towards him from behind, but then the black smoke surged upward and covered his head. He coughed on the oily smoke and covered his mouth with a jacket sleeve in an attempt to avoid inhaling any more, while he cast around in the darkening grey-black haze for either of them.

He took a step forward, trying to get out of the cloud, but when his foot came down it was on a smooth, hard surface— definitely not the grass or pavement of the Balamb Garden entryway. The smoke itself seemed to fade away as well, leaving him in darkness. The lamp, too, noticeable only as a weight in his hand, seemed to be... thinning out, becoming lighter and less substantial, until it vanished altogether and his fingers closed around nothing.

He took another step forward in the cool darkness, hands outstretched in an attempt to find anything in the dark. Abruptly, a hazy spotlight shone down around him. Past that, there was a vague penumbral region of haze and mist before the light faded completely. The shadowy area was completely empty, with a matte black floor and not even a pinpoint of light above to denote where the cone of light was coming from. The area had an eerie silence to it; his footsteps sounded muted, like the noise dissipated into infinite space, endless and dark.

This rather ominous mood was not improved when he did catch a sound: a rough flapping noise, like that of massive wings, coming from above. He pulled his gunblade from his side just as he caught sight of a clawed foot, descending. The rest of the creature was still just a dark shape; the only feature he could make out was a sweeping pair of silhouette wings.

It descended further at the same leisurely pace, until the light bled some shape and hue into it— it was mostly humanoid, its skin red and gunmetal grey and covered in places with flat plates of shiny armor, across the outside of its hips and along the back of its arms. Its wings were like a bat's, hooked and demonic, and it was wearing something like a helm or mask, with pointed horns that swept out behind. To complete the picture it had a thin tail, tipped with a fat spade point, which swept in restless cycles beneath it. It was definitely bigger than a human, but it was hard to tell by _how much_ , or how far away it was, in the featureless darkness.

He waited for what seemed like an eternity, watching the figure descend. The muscles in his arm spasmed minutely from the tension of keeping his sword aligned out in perfect combat form. But eventually it stopped, hovering above the ground, its clawed toes— alarmingly long and with an opposed digit— and tail scraping across the ground occasionally with a soft skittering sound that rose goosebumps on the back of his neck.

"Who dares disturb my sleep?" the thing said with an inhumanly deep voice, its rich timbre reverberating through Squall's bones.

He already had a terrible sinking feeling— what else would be in a cursed magical artifact?— but that just cinched it. Guardian Forces were really getting to be more trouble than they were worth.

"Uh, me?" Squall said, _trying_ and mostly failing to not make it a question. The huge monster glared down at him from behind its metallic mask, like it hadn't seen him until he spoke. "There was a lamp, and—" Squall started, explaining probably needlessly, but the GF cut him off.

"Yes— my trap. Cursed to remain here in this slumber until I am defeated by some great hero or villain— but certainly by someone more imposing than a youth like you." The GF paused, arms hanging from its sides, hands tracing huge arcs in the air. "A pity, a life cut so short— but that is the way of the world, and I, Diablos, must obey it." And then it— Diablos, he supposed, although the name didn't ring any bells whatsoever— grinned, showing a set of long, needle-like teeth. "It is a burden, but I have learned to enjoy it."

And then it attacked.

Diablos was _fast_ , that was definitely for sure. It was all he could do to roll back from the first disemboweling strike, its long clawed fingers catching against his jacket zipper and throwing them both off balance. He managed to get his bearings, if not actually get _up_ pretty quickly, and he figured the SeeD rulebook was a good guide to fall back on: when engaged against unknown magical forces, analyze their para-magical energy field and attempt to Draw their power.

Diablos' energy signature was... extremely strange, although admittedly he hadn't ever tried drawing magic from a Guardian Force before. It had parts he was pretty sure were speed effects, but those were just wispy fragments circling around a huge, black core. Where had Cid _found_ this thing?

He Drew, and the energy sizzled across the gap between them. Diablos' energy pulled strongly back towards him and he lost himself for a second, focusing on reeling the tangle of energy towards him. Thankfully, his draw alone seemed to have surprised Diablos, and he managed to scramble to his feet as Diablos fluttered back, wings flaring out.

"I see I have misjudged you," Diablos spoke, a different but equally inscrutable tone in his voice. "You must be a young Summoner, to command the divine energies."

Which, okay. He was pretty sure that was a _Centra_ term for... something. How _long_ had Diablos been stuck in the lamp, anyway? Although, Squall thought, dodging another one of Diablos' swipes, he still had a fight yet to win, so he ought to focus on that instead of trying to recall his first year Centra classes.

Diablos shifted backwards, buffeting him to the ground with a blast of wind from his wings. He stumbled to his feet just in time to see the final motes of a spell surge from his long, clawed fingertips. He dived to one side, but it exploded into a burst of light before it even hit him. There was a tiny fraction of a second when he thought he'd avoided Diablos' spell, but then everything started to blur.

It felt like space itself was warping around him. His vision bent outwards like his head was inflating like a balloon, which then abruptly _popped_ , snapping everything back into shape. He staggered backwards, legs suddenly trembling with the weight of supporting his own body.

Diablos dove towards him and he dodged practically by accident— his tearing claws seemed to be moving so slowly for a moment, and his wobbling legs were already taking him out of range. In the heartbeat after his claws had swung past, tearing through part of his jacket, he remembered about the spell he had Drawn.

It was the same strange warping spell, of course; he could see Diablos' own form bent like he was encased inside a melting glass globe. He could feel the pull of the spell even outside its effect— like it was crushing everything down inside and ravenously pulling anything nearby into its radius.

Diablos spread his wings to their full span, straining upwards against the magic. His supracoracoideus pulled out sharply, a thick cord of muscle from his chest across his shoulders to the junction of his wings.

The spell faded almost as rapidly as it had appeared and Squall rocked backward, unaware until it suddenly vanished how strongly the spell had been pulling at him. Diablos flapped his leathery wings, slowly gaining height until he was looming over Squall again. His arm shot into the air, his hand grasping like he was pulling at invisible strands above, and a telltale glimmer of energy ran across his body to his other hand, which he pointed at Squall.

Squall brought up his blade and attempted a feint again, but Diablos' pointed finger tracked Squall perfectly, and the haloing spiral of magical energy he let loose leapt across the gap, hitting him square on the chest. It took him a panicked half-second to match the feeling spreading across his body with known magical effects, but the sight of the gouge Diablos had cut on his shoulder closing up (his jacket was still a lost cause, though) made it undeniable: Diablos had healed him.

He looked back at Diablos, confused, and followed without comprehending as Diablos pulled back his arm, like a wind-up, and lunged at what had to be slow-motion for him, considering how fast he'd moved before. Still, his mind only caught up with his body in time to stumble backwards, tripping over his own feet to dodge the strike. Diablos pulled back in a flash, becoming a red and black blur for a half-second as he resumed his position in front of Squall, his face split open in a rather alarming grin.

For a second he was utterly bewildered, until with a cascading jolt he connected Diablos' bored musings of his entrapment with his surprise that he could cast paramagic. Diablos _wanted_ him to win; wanted to get out of the lamp and into the world, in the service of someone who actually knew how to junction.

Which was all very good, except even obviously telegraphing his blows he was still fast, and one painful tear across his chest was enough to show that he wasn't pulling the strikes that actually _connected_ at all.

Squall Drew again, looping the magic around to release it instantly against Diablos, who countered by healing him again and then hitting him with another pulling, gravitational spell, leaving him drained and weak. All the high-level magic was definitely affecting him; he felt like he _ought_ to have a headache but instead felt a little giddy and eager, like they were just playing.

His rational mind reminded him that was a well-known side-effects of high-level curing magic, an altered mental state that magnified his sensory responses; the cool wash of Diablos' Curaga left him flushed and breathless and the pounding crush of the Gravija made him feel like he was going to float away afterwards. The magics constantly flying back and forth didn't help, their usually barely visible glow seeming bright and vivid in the darkness; their low fizzling sounding like whooshing firecrackers.

Squall felt like each Demi was pulling him up into the air, in counter to Diablos as he sunk lower and lower with each spell exchange. His body was tilted forward, listing to one side. He wasn't even trying to keep up the illusion that his wings were keeping him aloft. They flapped slowly, creating a breeze that swept over him on the downstroke every few seconds.

They were practically within arm's length— he realized abruptly that yes, given Diablos' long, lanky arms _he_ was definitely within range of his arms— and barely moving; they both were pretty much out of energy.

Squall's final Demi caught them both up in it, the tug of it now hardly greater than the breeze from Diablos' wings. After the spell released them both it took him a tired second to realize Diablos was toppling forward like a felled tree, his clawed toes scraping against the ground as he fell against him.

Squall swung his gunblade to one side to avoid impaling Diablos as he fell, then _dropped_ it as Diablos collapsed completely, his hands automatically coming up to try and take some of his weight. He struggled to stay upright, shuffling backwards as he slipped further down, until his legs gave out on him and he sprawled out on his back, Diablos lying limp on top of him.

Diablos was heavy, and as they both settled to the ground he tried to push against his chest to get out of the pin, but Diablos was immobile against him.

He hadn't expected his skin to be warm, but he felt like any normal living thing. His skin, a rough raw red, was striated like muscles, a minor thing he hadn't noticed when they'd been fighting. There were patches of black mottled skin, on the sides of his chest and hips, spanning across his back. He had the urge to reach across his body, feel how it was shaped. His armor looked more like a partial carapace up close; the glossy black plates grown out of his skin, with tiny ridges of flesh at the edges.

Squall felt something slide across his ankle, parts of it pressing above the cuff of his pants, and jerked his leg away ineffectually, unmoving under Diablos' bulk. He saw, though, his purple-black tail arcing behind him to curl down near his legs. Diablos twitched and he felt the movement against his foot; could now discern the spade-shaped tip against his calf.

"Um," Squall said, flushed and tired from the fight and really unsure of what, precisely, was happening.

Diablos rumbled, the noise making a physical buzz across Squall's body as he chest reverberated. It took until after he'd started to talk before he realized it'd been a drawn-out "hmm", not a growl. "I have slept for a long time, I see." he said, and his voice was surprisingly pleasant close-up, even if watching his chitinous face plating move was extremely unnerving. "The skills used by the Summoners have remained, although... those who use them have changed."

"Um," Squall said again. "I don't actually know what 'Summoner' means."

Diablos rumbled again, and this time Squall took it as a laugh. "I suppose Time carries all in its stream, even if I have been left behind. Yet soon, I shall rejoin its flow." He looked down, at Squall lying practically squashed under him. "It is no surprise I lost to one like you. I can feel the Esper inside you— can _smell_ his conquest." Diablos looked down at him, and he realized anew just how close together their faces were, and how much the expression on Diablos' face could be considered a leer. "It has been a long time since I have enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh with a human."

Squall went red, then flushed deeper as he felt Diablos wing his tail higher up, working the dull tip around and around until the tip was pushing against the back of his knee and the long, flexible cord of his tail was wound all across his calf and ankle.

"Okay," Squall said, because he felt like he had to say something in response to a statement like that, and when Diablos looked at him he felt like he had to follow up with _something_ , so he said "roll over," and pushed vainly at Diablos' chest.

And, somewhat surprisingly, Diablos did. Their legs were tangled together, more the fault of Diablos than him, and so he carried Squall with him, ending up astride his hips.

His gunblade was off to one side, flat on the black ground of this strange place, but he lost sight of all of it when Diablos arched his wings up, snapping them out to their full span with a soft leathery creaking he hadn't noticed before.

Diablos' tail was still winding up his leg, inside his pants, the tip high enough to brush against his inner thigh. Squall was suddenly extremely aware that their hips were flush together, his cock half-hard in his pants and apparently matched by Diablos; something hard and hot pushing against his hips. He ground forward, his cock sliding against his pants and Diablos rumbled again. Then Diablos arched his hips, his slick, stiffening cock sliding against the front of his pants.

Squall splayed his hands out across Diablos' stomach as he bucked upwards, palms sliding across the striated surface of his skin. He gave in to the desire to feel across his body, slowly moving up across the rough red muscle until he reached the edge, his darker skin pebbled and thick under his fingertips.

He slowly slumped forwards as he extended his arms, until he was lying flat on Diablos' chest and his hands were up across his shoulders, fingers curled around the glossy armored plates growing out of his skin.

What really brought him back up was the growing dampness across his stomach, Diablos' cock jutting hard up against his stomach, grinding against his dick. Diablos' tail was probably a close second; Diablos had wound it all the way up his leg and the spade tip was sliding roughly against his trapped cock, trashing back and forth in the tight confines of his pants.

As he sat up, his first thought was a kind of general relief that Diablos _wasn't_ as big as Ifrit. In retrospect, he considered himself pretty lucky to avoid hospitalization after getting fucked by Ifrit's titanic cock, although Ifrit's own magics might have had something to do with that. But now... Zell and Selphie would _definitely_ notice something was up if he reappeared in the parking lot limping with come leaking from his ass.

Diablos was still... large, of course. Inhumanly huge, Squall thought dimly as he sidled down, freeing Diablos' cock to jut up against his stomach and incidentally bunching up the crotch of his pants enough for Diablos to attempt to wind his tail around Squall's hips, the thin whipcord length of it slithering along his leg. His cock was almost as long as his forearm and roughly as thick as his wrist, Squall thought as he slid his hands along the length to compare. Ifrit— well, Ifrit had been closer to his _leg_. And Ifrit had been hung like a person— or a human, at least, but Diablos' cock emerged slick and red from a kind of... slit, or opening.

Diablos' cock was human-shaped, at least. Not really 'cut' in his case, but the head was exposed without the bunched skin of a foreskin, like Ifrit's had been. And his whole cock was reddish, almost the same color as his skin. But otherwise it was humanoid, although monstrously oversized.

He slid his fingers, wet with Diablos' thick fluids, around the edges of the slit. His skin here was just as leathery as anywhere else on his body, but judging from Diablos' low groan, it was a lot more sensitive. Below the slit, almost between his thighs, he could just barely feel a bulge beneath his skin, what had to be his balls held inside his body.

Squall finally broke his gaze with Diablos' cock and looked up, locking eyes with Diablos himself as he realized that he'd been watching him stare at his cock. Of course, where else would he have been looking, Squall thought, but that didn't stop a red flush from creeping up his cheeks as Diablos leered down at him. He looked down, away, his hands still fixed around the base of his cock.

"Hold on," he said, flushing even redder but feeling like he ought to say something. His jacket was a little shredded on the front and at the shoulders (GF sex was hard on clothes, he was learning), but he shrugged out of it easily enough, only smearing the cuffs a little with Diablos' precome. He started a little as Diablos clasped his huge hands across his hips just as he pulled his undershirt over his head, but the momently expression of surprise thankfully gone by the time he cast off his undershirt.

Diablos had apparently realized what he was up to by then; his claws clacked against the metal on his belts as he unbuckled them with surprising dexterity, even managing to unbutton his pants without shredding the leather or slicing the button off altogether. The zipper seemed to stump him, though, so Squall had to reach down and unzip it himself. He stared down at Diablos' huge hands wrapped around his waist, his comparatively narrow wrist pressing against Diablos' thumbs as he pulled the zipper down.

That left him with his underwear bulging out from the spread-open fly, his cock straining against the fabric, the cord length of his tail lashing back and forth against it as he pulled the spade tip away from his ass, the coils slowly winding back down his leg. Diablos ran his fingers against his trapped length and Squall bit back a groan, breath catching in his throat.

He pulled back, regretfully, knowing that left to his own Diablos would probably end up shredding his underwear and ripping up his pants. Thankfully Diablos let him slide back, down into the valley formed by his long, spread legs, his wings fluttering slowly against his back. He pulled his boots off, tossing them down along with his socks, and arched his hips up to slide his pants and underwear off in one tangled bundle.

Diablos pulled him forward, creepy grin on his face as he cupped Squall's ass in his hands, long nimble fingers pressing up against his asshole as he came to rest astride his hips again. He flushed and looked down, at his dick, hard, and the red flesh of Diablos' cock, as he relaxed his asshole, letting Diablos slowly probe inside him. His claws clacked against each other as he slid a finger inside, thankfully being careful to crook his fingertip; keep the sharp point from piercing him.

He actually felt like Ifrit had, for lack of any better term, given his ass a workout. He opened easily this time, Diablos sinking two long fingers to the second joint. He could feel his claws pressing against some inner wall, the long blunt side sliding back and forth, coaxing out a series of little groans as his breathing got more and more ragged.

He splayed out across Diablos' chest and reached down to grasp Diablos' cock, slick with thick, stringy fluid that seemed to be emerging just as much from the slit at the base as from his cockhead. He stroked his cock, moving forward until his cock slid into place alongside Diablos', and then took them both in hand, hands quickly webbed with his viscous fluids. He spread his legs further as Diablos slid his fingers further inside him, to the third joint, and he felt every little stretch as he pushed the joint itself in.

Squall ground his hips minutely back and forth, sliding his cock along Diablos' and working his ass around his fingers, his movements slow and careful even with the building pleasure; he'd gotten several stinging slices from those claws across his chest and arms during the fight and he had no desire to find out what one felt like a good ways up his ass. And, as Diablos slid his fingers deeper, he froze as he felt the tip of what had to be his thumb press into him. The claw slid in neatly alongside his other two fingers, the first joint of his thumb pressing inside as he hilted his other fingers to the knuckle.

He _whimpered_ as Diablos twisted his fingers, grinding them against his ass, pulling his thumb out to open his asshole, spreading it wide. His cockhead was slick, droplets of precome forming slowly at the tip, his cock and stomach covered with Diablos' much more copious fluids, tethered together with strings of ropy thick fluid.

"Wait," he said, hardly believing he was saying it. He flushed harder when Diablos actually _listened_ , the slow movements of his hips stilling and his fingers freezing in place inside him. "I can't—" he said, decided that gave a wrong impression, and started again.

"When you send me back, there'll be other people there," he said, and Diablos seemed to understand before he even finished, already sliding his fingers out of him. "so I can't..." he finished, trailing off like he couldn't actually form the words "let you fuck me," much less the explanatory ending of "because they will notice something is up, because I will be sore and limping and probably leaking come, because you're gigantic, because you're a GF and I'm probably not supposed to want you to fuck me to begin with, so if that happens there will be SeeD controversy and psych tests," because even _thinking_ it made his flush spread down his neck.

Whatever powers Diablos had, though, apparently mind-reading wasn't one of them. So he just slowly pulled his fingers out, the withdraw just as pleasurable as the slow push inside had been.

"Uh," Squall said, like he was already flushed and naked and half-ravished so he might as well ask, "can I fuck you?"

Diablos looked down at him, his expression definitely leering. "You have defeated me in combat," he said, "you may do whatever you wish with me."

Squall bit his lip and looked away, so very aware for once in his life that Diablos was saying something with many layers of meaning. "Um," he said, dumbly. "Good."

And so, after a moment, he slid down until he was between Diablos' legs, his legs still spread wide across his waist and his hands still hanging loosely around his waist. Diablos' cock, no longer flattened against his chest, bobbed upwards, jutting out from his crotch.

There had been no possibility of sucking Ifrit off, Squall thought, but Diablos was maybe small enough to try. He leaned forward, folding his legs under him as he did, and clasped his hands around his shaft. He sat up so that his cock pressed against Diablos' pebbly thighs while Diablos' huge cock splayed out across his stomach and chest.

The tip was far larger than he could fit in his mouth, he could see even before he tried. Still, he opened wide to lap across the fat underside of his cockhead, pressing his tongue firmly against the tight connecting flesh between his cockhead and shaft. Diablos shuddered as he ran his tongue across his flesh, licking and slurping, his face already slick with his ropy precome. The stuff was all over the place, but it was so thick it cohered in strings, sliding across his face and leaving damp trails behind.

He thought, dimly, that he ought to have reservations; that it should have felt momentous and erotic (or perverse and degrading, whichever) to suck off a GF, instead of just feeling wet and hot, tasting like salt and meat. But that train of thought _made_ him feel kind of perverse, so he focused on Diablos' cock in front of him, hard and oozing, his hands sliding up and down effortlessly, like the sheer quantity of ropy precome coating his shaft removed all friction. He licked sideways across the rim of his cockhead and Diablos _groaned_ , deep and rumbling, his hands trembling against Squall's sides.

On closer inspection, his face smeared across Diablos' cock, maybe the head was pointed a little more sharply than a human's, or the thick tube of his urethra more pronounced, but it wasn't like he'd seen any normal human cocks aside from his own before, so he really wasn't able to compare. That thought again sent a dirty little thrill through his stomach, that he was lapping across a GF's monstrous cock, the tip splattering precome across his face, threads of it over the bridge of his nose, and he'd never ever done anything at all comparable with a human, man or woman.

He licked again at the side of his shaft, coughing a little as Diablos bucked up and shot a rope of precome against the roof of his mouth. He pulled back a little in surprise and it slid out over his teeth and lips and hung from his cockhead like a fat slug. He slid his hands down to the base, to where the thick shaft emerged from Diablos. The grey skin around the slit was slightly ridged and folded, a minute gap visible between his abdomen and the shaft of his cock. So as he pressed his mouth against the ridge of his cockhead, taking half of it into his mouth, and pushed his fingers down, pressing inside along Diablos' shaft, into his tight hot depths.

Diablos groaned above him, rumbling and surprised, as he curled his fingers along the root of his cock, inside his body. His cock was leaking into his mouth, the slight dip of his cockslit just barely inside his mouth, against his upper lip. Squall swallowed repeatedly, flushing as he pulled off with a wet pop. He slumped down, sucking on the thick tube running along the underside of his cock as he felt along the base of his cock, the tube still there, distending the oval flesh of his shaft outward.

He could have kept it up for a long time. He was focused so strongly on the feel, on the _taste_ of Diablos' cock, on his hands, sliding minutely against Diablos' inner folds. He was dimly aware of his own cock, sliding back and forth against Diablos' thighs, slick with their combined fluids, but everything else was lost in his haze of focus.

"Enough!" Diablos eventually roared, and Squall's head snapped up, lips coated with precome, the thick fluid sliding across his lips and chin, running long tethers back and forth between his face and Diablos' cock. Suddenly, in retrospect, he was aware of Diablos' increasingly load grunts and groans, his breath coming in louder pants until he was panting in ragged, stuttering gasps as Squall worked over his cock. At some point he'd even wound his tail around him again, circling around his hips like he was imitating his belts, and he hadn't even really noticed. " _Fuck_ me already," he said, voice as deep and imposing as ever even when he was pleading.

He felt like he ought to flush, but he didn't feel the heat across his face grow as he looked down, to Diablos' dripping cock and spread legs. He pulled his hands back, not even fully aware until he did so that he'd buried both his hands to the knuckle inside Diablos. But his fingers were slick, wet, and he skimmed lightly lower, between his legs, until he pressed against the tight, dark pucker of his asshole.

He sat back just enough for his cock to slip back, away from Diablos' immense shaft. His cockhead was just level with his hands, pointed straight at Diablos' asshole. He pushed against it with his fingertip, fingers slick but perhaps not slick enough as Diablos stiffened and grunted.

He pulled back and slid his hand down Diablos' leaking cock, from the tip all the way to the base, fingers curling inside and scooping out his thick, gel-like precome. He could feel it slither around in his hand as he pulled back, still stuck to Diablos' shaft, but eventually the connecting strands snapped or pulled away from the shaft, leaving his hand heavy and coated in hanging, jiggling ropes, and he figured that was enough. He could feel Diablos relax his ass as he pushed one goopy finger into him, then another when he took it unresisting.

He wondered how much he could take; if his massive frame meant he could keep going, until he had wedged his entire hand up inside him. He had fit most of his hands into the slit his _cock_ went, so who knew how much he could take in his ass.

Just the thought of that made him feel... not guilty, at all, but the increasingly familiar feeling that he _ought_ to be feeling guilty. Instead he just felt... nervous, but excited, with a growing tension in his gut as he worked his fingers into Diablos' ass. He added a third with no difficulty and scissored them apart, then curled them up and pressed his fingertips against the inner walls of his ass, dimpling them slightly. His flesh seemed so pliant and unresisting he couldn't resist working his fingers more, pushing back and forth.

Diablos would probably yell again, anyway, if he kept this up without actually shoving his cock inside him. So he regretfully pulled his fingers out and slid his cock through the thick layer of precome in his palm before he finally arched up to press his cockhead against his asshole.

He pushed in slowly, with Diablos grunting above him and his own breath coming fast and ragged. He could feel the stretch of penetration, Diablos' asshole tense and tight around his cock but opening with no difficulty as the head pushed inside with something like a pop. They both groaned, Squall shudderingly and Diablos low and drawn-out. Diablos raised a hand from across Squall's hips, like he was stroking it across his legs, and took his cock in hand, the immense length of it fitting neatly in his huge, wide hand.

Squall forgot to even thrust as he watched Diablos start jerking off, his fingers curled loosely around the shaft, hips shifting as he ground the heel of his palm against the base of his cock, along the side of his slit. Then he swallowed, eyes wide.

It was probably incredibly perverse to think that it was amazingly hot, watching his monstrous, inhuman fingers curl up, pump slowly across his huge cock, steadily spewing thick, slug-like ropes of his pungent precome. But he felt like he could come just from looking at it; ropy webs of precome slid across his hand and tethered his hand to his cock as he stroked. His hand made a low wet squishing, splashing noise as he stroked himself, the sound seeming to resonate in his ears.

He honestly had no clue how Ifrit had apparently lasted fifteen, twenty-some minutes. He felt like he was going to come before he could even push the rest of his cock inside; like he was already just a hair's breadth away from coming. Diablos' ass was hot and wet, tight, around his cock; he could feel the heat radiating off his thighs through the small space between their bodies. His tail was limp across his hips, the tip lying across his thigh, but even the weight of it felt incredibly good.

He pushed forward, shuddering as Diablos scraped the claws of his other hand lightly across the small of his back and his ass. His cock pushed deeper, the tight clench of his asshole sliding further on his shaft, past that the hot, muscular walls of his ass itself slid against his cock. He cried out, hips shooting forwards to bury his cock all the way inside Diablos.

He could feel his pulse through his entire body, from the tips of his toes curled up under him; definitely in his cock, the whole thing seeming to throb in time with it; hammering in his chest and beating in his ears. It took a half-second for the sensation to crash over him, so much like reaching out with a finger to touch swiftly across something burning hot. But then it was _there_ , Diablos' tight asshole around the base of his cock, his stomach sliding, rough with friction, against Diablos spread thighs, his balls nestled tight up against his ass cheeks.

He was amazed he didn't come just from that, although he could feel the tension of it in his gut, winding tighter with every little groan Diablos made, every tiny twitch of his ass around his cock. Even thinking about it, about his cock inside him, made the feeling rise inside him. He looked away from the tight, thick muscle of his ass to see that _Diablos_ had certainly enjoyed the penetration; he'd shot thick strings of precome up across his stomach and chest, some still taut, strung out in midair between the tip of his cock and his muscled abdomen. The sight did not help him in his struggle to contain his orgasm.

Squall pulled back, the feeling of his cock sliding out, Diablos' walls clenching tightly, trying to pull him back in, again feeling like it was so much more than it took for him to come. He bit his lower lip, mouth parted as he panted, pulling what had to be a bizarre face as he fought to keep himself from coming already.

The clench, pulling tension of his cockhead emerging made him gasp, the ridge catching against Diablos' ass. They pulled against each other for a fraction of a second before he popped out, sliding more roughly against the muscle of his asshole. Squall gasped, feeling woozy, and stared down at his cock, slick and hard, the tip still dimpling against Diablos' asshole.

He felt like he ought to say something here, maybe, but the only things that came to mind were straight out of terrible porn he'd busted some underclassmen watching and then guiltily kept himself and that was totally out of the question, so instead he thrust back in, bottoming out with ease. He made a drawn out noise, a sound he didn't even know it was possible for him to make, low and surprised, somewhere between a growl and a moan. He couldn't take his eyes off his cock, sliding into Diablos' ass, even with the more and more audible wet splashing, sucking noises as Diablos (apparently) really started jerking himself off.

He lasted two thrusts, coming with a shout on the outstroke, the head of his cock still buried inside as he came. He was pretty sure he was groaning, or rather that the hiss of air through his tight throat was making an audible sound, feeling like all his muscles were locking up as he came.

He slumped forwards, coming down unexpectedly across Diablos' slick cock as he hilted himself inside, pumping back and forth with the last part of his cock as he came. He worked his lips across Diablos' messy stomach, mouth wide open, kissing and licking like he was on autopilot until his cock was pressing wetly across the side of his face, strings of precome splattering down into his hair.

It felt like it took forever to ride out his orgasm, even as he thrust repetitively into him, hands encircling his broad waist, back sweaty as he arched forwards and back. Near the end, the thought occurred to him that he'd spent more time inside Diablos coming than he had fucking him, feeling drawn out and giddy, euphoric after his release.

And... Diablos was still jerking himself off, hand sliding against Squall's stomach as he stroked himself. His stomach and chest were messy, coated in lines of precome that didn't seem to want to disconnect fully from his cock, most still attached to his cock and jiggling back and forth as he stroked, cock arching up on the downstroke, his huge hand bringing the massive length up at a sharper angle. Squall whimpered, he thought, maybe, when he saw.

Diablos' head was thrown back, freakish needle teeth bared in a snarl as he pumped. Squall brought his hands up too, feeling limp and heavy all over, his cock still mired in his ass. They slid down to the base, and on the downstroke Diablos' huge hand closed around them, pressing them tight against his wet, hot flesh. Squall clenched tight, the slippery precome having him absolutely no traction, his hands almost slipping out from between his hand and his cock, even though they were all clenched tightly around each other.

But maybe that was just enough to bring him off, or maybe he'd been keeping himself on edge all through Squall's orgasm, but as his hands brushed against the base of his cock Diablos _roared_ , the same rough sound he'd made when they fought, and snapped his wings out in a sudden buffeting jolt. Every muscle he could see went tense and rigid. He could even feel his asshole clench around his still-hard cock. He looked at his cock, strung out with precome and spasming, his cockhead swelling out larger as Diablos kept stroking frantically.

Diablos _squeezed_ down around the base of his cock, pressing Squall's fingers tight against his shaft. He could feel the first surge of come rush up, emerging as a single thick rope that hooked around the head, slapping down across his shaft as a single thick, viscous rope. But he pumped his cock, still roaring, and the next shot flew out with a powerful spasm, the same thick fluid shooting up across his neck, across his collarbone and the strange anchoring muscles of his wings. Squall was pretty sure he was groaning too as he watched it arc from his cockhead, followed after a half-second with another practically-solid bolt of come, shooting out in thick lines.

Diablos kept pumping his cock, hips working up and down as he came, the first two shots followed by several more, until his chest was a complete mess. It all clumped together in almost-parallel lines, on top of the strings of precome, the whole mess slowly oozing down across his chest.

Squall pulled out, his cock slipping from Diablos' ass more by accident than design, as he watched him come. He kept pumping his cock, shooting more bolts of come across his chest and stomach, each one coming slightly further apart and shooting lower, some pulling out in tethers still attached to his cock or pounding hand.

For his part, Squall slid his hands around the base of his cock, pushing down against his stomach, grinding against his pubic bone. He wondered dimly if he had enough time to jerk off before Diablos stopped coming; his cock half-hard again. Somewhat regrettably, he started stroking himself off, hand covered with rough ropes of come, just as Diablos went limp, the final spurts dribbling in a messy splatter down his cock.

Squall whimpered, jerking himself off quickly, threads of come swinging across the backs of his hand. He reached between his legs, pressing two thick fingers into his ass. He rose up on his knees to spread his ass wide enough for really work his fingers inside and almost tipped forward, across Diablos' cock. He looked up across Diablos' disheveled form as he jerked off, staring with focus at the webby mess across his chest, gaze flicking up to his head as he caught Diablos staring down at him, just barely visible with his head thrown back, relaxed.

Tiredly, like his hand weighed a ton, Diablos raised a hand across his chest and pulled at one of the thick ropes of come across his chest, the stuff thick enough to actually pull up in a line, tugging the main mess up before snapping, leaving him with a thick, short segment dangling from one of his fingers.

Squall bit his lip, eyes flickering across the defined muscles in his lanky arms, the side of his trunk, all of them flexing and shifting ever-so-slightly as he breathed, low and deep. He could feel the coiling tension in his gut again, already, and he kept stroking himself rapidly, trying to get himself off quickly.

Diablos lowered his arm, smearing his come across his side, and then brushed off the come on his chest, all of it smearing in a thick layer across his hand, leaving his skin glossy. And then he _extended his arm_ , holding his smeared, dripping hand out right in front of Squall's face, the pungent smell of it wafting over him and making his cock spasm, wet drops of precome sliding out of the tip.

He lurched forward, coordination gone, and pressed his lips across the back of his hand, mouth opening to lap at the thick, salty bitter substance. Diablos rumbled, maybe in arousal, as he licked across his hand, sucking the heavy strings of come into his mouth. He swallowed heavily, hand a blur around his cock, lips spread wide across the knuckle of his thumb, licking repeatedly across his skin.

He moaned again, muffled by Diablos' hand, and thrust his hips forward, cock sliding against Diablos' huge length, slowly softening across his abdomen as he came again. He whimpered as he came, throat clenching tight as he shot his second load across Diablos' stomach, still focusing on the taste of his come, on the heat of his hand across his lips, the slide of his cock against his thighs, of the low, musky smell that was just of _Diablos_ , still present under the cloying odor of his come.

He slumped down, smearing the last dribbles across his stomach as he pressed bodily against Diablos' cock, ropy precome pressing against his belly and sliding back and forth, still connected to his dick. He licked across his hand, coating his taste buds in the heavy tang of his come, legs shuddering as he collapsed.

Diablos rumbled again, a long drawn-out "hmmm" as he stared down at Squall, still licking across his dripping hand and swallowing, cock thick and softening as he ground it across his inner thigh. He pulled back before the rush of euphoria had really faded, and he just sagged bonelessly against his stomach, lapping across the mess, eating his come.

What really pulled him out of that exhausted haze was the telltale feel of magic around him, looking up to see Diablos' form fading away at the edges, glimmering into sparkling motes of energy that reflected light from an unknown source. And with it, he could feel the space they were in fade, the light dimming slowly around the edges.

"Wait!" he yelped, and leapt to his feet, legs almost buckling.

Diablos just grinned widely and continued the slow process of junctioning as Squall grabbed at his clothes, trying to collect them all before the light faded completely. He yanked his boxer-briefs up and shoved his slick, half-hard cock inside. One good thing with Diablos' super thick come was that it hadn't splattered across him; even his face was just slick and damp instead of dripping ropes of the stuff. He wiped his goopy hands off on his underwear, figuring it was the only piece of clothing he was wearing that wasn't going to be showing.

He hopped across the darkening surface as he shoved his legs into his pants, managing to pull them up to his waist and button them with one hand, hooking the other through his undershirt. Then he realized it was tangled up, inside-out and backwards, and had to pull it off and try again, Diablos completely gone save for a faint glimmer, the light almost out. He could feel the air turn smoky as he pulled his jacket on, the heavy fabric settling comfortingly across his shoulders.

He coughed as the air _thickened_ , going directly from cool, dark and dry to thick waves of oily smoke with only the briefest of transitions, Squall still hunting across the vanishing surface for his belts. He got one on, only threaded through two of his belt loops, and weaved the other two along it, not even having time to buckle them properly as the first glimmer of sunlight shone through the cloud of smoke.

He could swear he could hear Diablos' low voice laughing at him from inside his head.

And then, abruptly, the oily smoke cleared and left him on the Balamb Garden parking lot, Zell and Selphie looking worried.

"Hey!" Zell yelled, and rushed forward to give him a bone-crushing hug, thankfully not quite in a position to notice his still half-hard cock. "You're okay!" he said as he pulled back, and Squall took the moment to look down and secure his belts so that they weren't dangling quite so overtly, although there was nothing he could do with his pants sagging down around his hips.

"How long was I gone?" he asked, hoping neither of them could tell how his voice had almost stuck in his throat, still a little thick and rough. He felt like he had to cough, to get some of Diablos' come out of his throat, but that would give him away in a heartbeat.

"Just a few minutes," Selphie said, and that meant that time had definitely been flowing slower inside the lamp. No wonder Diablos had spent most of his time sleeping.

"But we were worried sick!" Selphie continued, and elbowed Zell in the side. "This is why you shouldn't mess with weird magic things you don't understand!" she said in a loud whisper.

"Yeah, sorry man," Zell said, scratching the back of his head. "What was that, anyway?"

"A...," Squall started, and paused for just a fraction of a second. "GF, sealed within the lamp," he finished.

"Cool!" Zell said, extending a hand to hi-five Squall and then dropping it when he just crossed his arms. "Was it totally a genie?" he asked, unperturbed.

"...No," Squall said. "Anyway, we still have a train to catch," he said in an attempt to change the subject.

"Yeah, yeah," Zell said, wagging his hand at him.

"I'm driving!" Selphie shouted, punching an arm up into the air, and ran off towards the parked cars.

"Shotgun!" Zell yelled, dashing afterwards.

But that turned out to be a good thing, because as Zell and Selphie bickered in the front he had time to fix his belts. He quietly and carefully pulled them off, muffling their clinking against the seat, face flushed as he kept glancing up at the front seats.

Selphie was driving in a manner that would have gotten her demoted if any instructor saw and Zell was alternately cheering and yelling instructions, so they thankfully weren't paying any attention to him in the back as he slid his belt through the loops on his pants and softly secured the buckle, then fastened his other two belts around that. He could feel himself flush the whole time, his cock inappropriately hard as he thought of Diablos' dark presence in the back of his head.

But then he finished, face still red but fading as he ran his sweaty palms across the knees of his pants, tense spine slowly relaxing as Zell and Selphie continued bickering in the front, completely unaware he'd just hidden the evidence of his (latest) tryst with a GF.

He swallowed hard, fighting the blush that crept back into his cheeks, and looked out of the window for the rest of the drive.


	3. Tomb of the Unknown King

General Caraway certainly had some gall, Squall thought, ordering them to trek all the way out to the Tomb of the Unknown King and then back again when they were already on a tight schedule. The parade was _this night_ and it was midmorning already. But since they _were_ on a tight schedule, he didn't think they had the time to force through the tangle of social bureaucracy which surrounded any kind of interaction with the General.

He supposed any Galbadian general would expect SeeDs to follow his orders, even one planning a military coup. It was what they were there for, after all. He wouldn't even _see them_ until they ran chores for him, which explained why exactly he'd spent the past half-hour walking through still-dewy grass with Rinoa and Irvine towards the crumbling ruin of the Tomb, instead of doing something useful like preparing for the night's events. Back in Deling, he'd thought— and still thought— that it would take less time to get to the Tomb and back rather than attempting to work through the morass of Galbadian military social etiquette.

Of course, the instant they set foot on the flagstones there was a commotion at the entrance. Shouting and yells echoed out from the building as a group of people who had to be the _prior_ SeeD delegation fled in terror. He walked towards them and Irvine followed; Rinoa stared at the uniform-clad SeeDs with what was probably suspicion with a hand on her weapon as they came close.

And they ran right past them. There was a brief moment when Squall could hear their ragged breath as they dashed past them, but it wasn't enough time to yell out "So what's your SeeD ID#, anyway?". He pivoted in place, staring at their backs as they raced off towards Deling, apparently in no hurry to slow down.

He facepalmed as they became ever-smaller figures. Irvine and Rinoa grinned at each other, like they didn't realize he could still see them through his fingers.

"They weren't carrying their weapons," Squall said, flatly. He wasn't sure what Caraway's guard would say if they told him they'd missed the other SeeD team but it probably wouldn't end with them making their meeting time, and someone had to take this at least a little seriously.

"And?" Rinoa asked, not getting the connection. Squall frowned, although in retrospect she'd never actually said anything that implied she'd read over the SeeD guidelines.

"All SeeD weapons have the student ID# of the owner on them, even for SeeDs out in the field," Irvine explained helpfully, after they realized Squall was just going to glower.

"So... we go in?" Rinoa asked, readying her boomerang device.

"Yes," Squall said. "With any luck, they'll have dropped their weapons near the entrance... additionally, Caraway must have sent them here to accomplish some task. If time permits, it could be worthwhile to inspect the ruins, firstly for whatever artifacts might still be in residence and secondly to assess what Caraway thinks is a legitimate challenge for SeeD." Which was really just longwinded formal talk for "I'm curious about this place", but thankfully neither Irvine nor Rinoa seemed to pick up on that.

The inside of the Tomb was weird and crumbling, masonry so ancient he couldn't even begin to place it. The ceiling was falling apart, lighting up the corridors with dim diffuse sunlight. The floors were tiled with ancient stones and plants grew abundantly in the gaps between the tiles, mostly moss and short stiff grasses. Running along the hallway near the walls were smooth, shallow gullies, currently dry but with mineral stains showing they had once carried water.

And sure enough, they found one of the SeeD's weapons, a standard issue sword, discarded in the middle of the entrance corridor. Their ID# was embossed on the hilt; 2631. That was a lot simpler than he'd been expecting. He picked it up and gave it an experimental swing, testing its balance.

"We've already accomplished our primary goal," he said, and ignored Rinoa giggling at him from behind, "and we have a substantial period of time before we have to meet up with Caraway again— we'll change our mission goals to the secondary priorities, as enumerated previously, until either we accomplish them or enough time passes so that we'll have to return to Deling to make our meeting."

Rinoa was totally laughing at him, clamping a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. He turned and looked at her disapprovingly, hilting the SeeD sword on his belt; opposite his gunblade. His look made her laugh so hard she almost lost her balance and had to bend down to stabilize herself.

"You don't have to be so professional, Mr. SeeD," she said, and then stuck her tongue out at him.

He rolled his eyes. "...Whatever," he said, and at that point _Irvine_ was clearly having trouble keeping his face neutral; the edges of his mouth kept twitching up.

Squall turned, scowling, and headed deeper into the ruins. He might as well stop this conversation while _someone_ still had any respect for him. Rinoa and Irvine followed after a moment, no doubt after sharing a _look_.

The hallway opened into a four-way intersection. Each path, even the one behind them, lead into an unusual gloom. It was nothing interesting to look at, and Squall paused for a second, trying to decide which direction to go. Except then there was a roar from deeper inside, followed by the scrabbling sound of claws on stone as monsters dashed out of the darkness at them.

They were something like huge armored moles, with dusty red skin and heavy shell-like plating across their backs. Squall drew his weapon in one smooth movement; Rinoa and Irvine already had their weapons at the ready.

It definitely wasn't looking to be a _difficult_ fight, but just as he thought that he heard a watery roar from behind them. He spared a glance behind him to see two translucent streams pour upwards out of the gullies. They formed into blobby shapes with lots of stringy teeth, effectively blocking their way back.

"This is probably what the other SeeDs were running from," Squall yelled back at the others as he dove forward, cutting through one of the armored monsters with a single slice. "We can take this," he said, not entirely sure if he wanted them to pick up his implication that the other SeeDs ought to have been able to handle it as well.

And because fate loved hating him, that was when the _third_ group of monsters appeared from another direction; this one, alarmingly, was a group of clattering skeletons. _That_ was something of a worry; undead monsters were unusually strong, and though he had no doubts about his ability to take them down he wasn't so sure about Rinoa or Irvine.

They were occupied with the two blobby-things and one of the armored monsters, so he dashed past the other armored monster and yelled out a warning, drawing the attention of the undead as he ran a short way down one of the intersection's corridors with them chasing behind.

They hit _hard_ , knocking him backwards with every blow he parried, and in what seemed like no time he was halfway down the corridor. He let loose a burst of healing magic that knocked off the arm of one of the skeletons, but it still advanced towards him along with its comrades.

By the time he managed to destroy all three of them through concentrated healing magic and the occasional sword slice, he'd ended up quite a distance from where he'd started— the corridor he'd been pushed back along was a long curve that had met with another four-way intersection. He turned around, looking at each direction in turn, and concluded that he had no idea of which way to go.

Irvine and Rinoa were skilled enough to handle the remaining monsters; that wasn't what he was worried about. If the place was actually a maze, they'd all be in for some trouble if they tried to go after him.

Squall looked back and forth between the passages again, before finally just touching his right hand to the wall and picking a direction randomly. This way, he'd definitely get _somewhere_ , even if not out of the maze.

The direction he picked was another curving passage, which was good, but although it opened up into another four-way intersection it wasn't the one near the entrance. Squall sighed to himself and tried to listen for any noise, but all he could hear was the distant sound of water and the rustling of the trees on top of the building.

He was starting to be really glad they had time to spare before they had to be back in Deling.

He kept walking with his hand against the right wall and that brought him around another curve to another intersection. This time, though, the right-hand corridor ran straight. There was an archway at the end that opened into a room and Squall walked quietly up to the entrance.

At first as he got closer all he could see was stone walls, overgrown with vegetation, and dry dead grass between the blocks on the floor. There was something like a pedestal in the center, and a hole in the far wall that looked intentional, like a window.

Squall crept closer but stopped short when he saw the monster. At first he thought it was a statue, standing immobile against the left wall, until he saw it move. It had to be over twice his height. It was humanoid, kind of— its face bulged out into a short, broad muzzle, and its jaw was huge and square. Stubby tusks stuck out from its jaw, past its upper lip. Above its head, a huge pair of red horns curved up, lethally pointed. Its head and neck were humped forward by the sheer amount of muscle across its shoulders and back, and its legs ended in a pair of massive cloven hooves. It was a rough, dark purple all over, and he couldn't tell if it was fur or just thick hide, although it did have a thin tail with a reddish tuft of fur at the tip.

It had set its weapon against the wall, a huge spiked mace made of some dark metal, and as he watched it set down a similar shield as well.

It turned away and Squall pressed himself tightly against the wall, hopefully out of its sight, but he peeked around the doorjam at it, unable to suppress his curiosity. It looked around, almost suspiciously, and Squall ducked down into a crouch while pressing himself closer to the wall. After its cursory look around it dropped the hand scratching at its horn to its lap, where its thick fingers sidled under its loincloth, bunching and pulling under the heavy fabric.

Its other hand slid across its chest, unbuckling some clasps on its chest armor. It removed its hand from under its loincloth and after another glance around the room, used both hands to pull off the chest armor with a grunt. It set the armor down on the ground beside the pillar with a muffled clatter. Its chest was as well-defined as the rest of its body, with huge slabs of muscle covered by its purple hide, a few tufts of hair spiking out across its chest. Squall could see its nipples, each one huge and dark, and too many of them, running down across his chest in lines.

The bull dropped both hands to its lap, and dug its stubby fingers under its loincloth again, rubbing and pulling underneath. While it continued rubbing at its crotch its other hand trailed along the strap of its loincloth, tugging it loose until with a casual movement the bull pulled off the scrap of fabric and let it drop to the floor, leaving it completely naked.

Squall stared at the bull's body; its— no, definitely _his_ cock covered with one hand, his titanic balls hanging down almost to his knees. The bull swung his hands around, one feeling at his long sheath as he tugged at his hanging balls with the other. Even as he stared, Squall could see the bull's cock emerge from his body, a long tapered shaft with a slight bulge near the pointed tip. The bull gently stroked his shaft as little drops of precome ran from the tip of his cock, coating his fingers. His cock emerged in shuddering jerks, sliding out a few inches at a time, and to got thicker and thicker the more emerged. His precome became more copious as well, the fluid quickly streaming down his dick and dripping to the ground.

The bull closed his fist around his shaft and started to stroke himself, slowly at first but picking up speed; he jerked his hips back and forth when he really got going. Squall bit the inside of his lip to prevent himself from making a sound as the bull raised his legs up so he could press a thick finger against his asshole.

The bull snorted and shuddered as he dug into his ass, his cock swinging around wildly, splattering wide arcs of precome on the floor. He continued jerking his cock, his body almost in profile, like he was showing off for Squall. His balls rolled back and forth against the side of the pillar, too heavy to swing much. His cock jutted up from his crotch, impossibly long and thick, spurting precome that gathered on his knuckles and dripped off in long slashes, splattering his legs and chest as well as adding further to his mess on the floor.

Squall felt his cock drip out precome in sympathy as the bull squeezed the base of his dick as he pushed a finger into his ass; a thick gush of precome shot from the tip and splattered to the ground in a messy line as the bull groaned and shuddered above.

The noise as the bull huffed and grunted was loud enough Squall figured he wouldn't hear the low clinks and clatters of metal as he unbuckled his belts and unbuttoned his pants. He slowly pulled down the zipper's tab, each notch clicking quietly through the zipper. His hard cock bulged against his boxer-briefs, but Squall stared at the bull grunting and groaning for several seconds before he pulled his underwear down, hooked it under his balls, and took his dick in hand.

He couldn't stop his train of thought from commenting on the whole... _scenario_ , how in the past weeks it'd gotten to the point where he felt like just, _of course_ he'd caught a huge monster jerking off. He wondered if this was something that happened to everyone; that all the SeeDs who went out from the Garden ended up fucking their GFs and playing peeping tom with whatever local monsters they could find. But then again, thinking of Zell or Selphie... probably not. Attempting to push aside his perpetual running commentary for the moment, he refocused his attention on the bull jerking off.

There was an actual pool of precome on the floor beneath him, running slowly along the crevices between the rocks and spreading further with each messy gush from his cock. The pillar he was sitting on was liberally splattered with it; lines of liquid slowly rolled down its sides. The bull jerked off, back and forth, and the wet burble of precome sloshed in heavy arcs as he stroked. Now his hands were completely covered in precome, and streams of it splashed high up on his over-muscled forearm and slid down along the paths of his veined muscles, drooling down across his hand to run down the base of his erect cock and finally winding over his balls or across his huge thighs, some even spilling across his other hand, pressed tight against his ass.

Squall kept looking behind him between staring wide-eyed at the scene in front of him. His guts felt all tangled up and his mind felt foggy and distant, like it was overwhelmed by everything going on, but he couldn't shake the worry that someone— or worse, some _thing_ was going to sneak up on him jerking off.

Still, he couldn't stop himself from returning to stare at the huge minotaur. He stroked his own cock in rough time with the bull, who was taking his time, stroking his absurdly long cock slowly, precome still spurting and sluicing all across his body. Squall's cock was slick at the tip and he could feel every minute dewy droplet of precome ooze from the tip, absolutely nothing like the slick mess covering the bull.

He wasn't sure what it was eventually— maybe he stepped forward, like his body wanted to be closer, even thought his mind knew that was a terrible idea. Or maybe he lost his balance when he looked back and forth to make sure nothing was behind him. Whatever it was, he stumbled a little with his pants pushed down around his thighs, and he _felt_ the weight of his belts shift a fraction of a second before it happened.

One of his belts slipped sideways, the buckle coming out from under his other belt, and his swords slipped down and crashed against the floor with a loud clatter. Squall felt himself very abruptly go into fight-or-flight mode; a cold sweat broke out all over his body and his heart started pounding.

The bull's head came up in an arc to stare at the entranceway, and Squall looked back behind him, wondering if he had time to get to the nearest cross-section. He looked back and the bull was already moving towards him.

He moved _fast_ for something that huge, and in the barest fraction of a second he leapt up, his cock spraying a messy arc in the air as it swung, and bounded right over to him in an earth-shaking leap.

"WHO'S THERE?!" the bull bellowed out, in a deafening roar, and Squall was divided between hoping Rinoa and Irvine heard and came to help and hoping that they would never ever hear, because here he was with his cock still hard and the huge GF looming over him, his cock still readily drooling precome onto the floor right in front of him.

Squall stumbled back, tripped over the cuff of his sagging pants, and sprawled backwards with his cock still out, pressed up hard against his stomach as the bull pinned him, huge knees on either side of Squall's hips. The swords on both sides of his hips pressed uncomfortably against his legs, stuck in place, not that he had the leverage to unsheathe either of them.

"uh," Squall said, but the bull cut him off.

"INTRUDER!" he yelled, snarling down at him. This close, their size difference was all the more obvious— his squat muzzle was wider than his entire chest; his curved horns were roughly as long as one of his _arms_.

If anything, the minotaur being completely naked made him more threatening— it wasn't like he'd need his armor, or shield, or even his spiked mace to beat him to a bloody pulp. And he could see all his muscles, inhumanly large and dense, smoothly expanding and contracting under his skin, all of them gigantic.

He didn't have a coat, Squall noted distantly, his skin was just rough and leathery; purple, with tiny wiry dark hairs scattered across his hide, thinner in some places and thicker in others. His immense cock was still rock hard and sandwiched between them, the huge shaft slick and wet across his chest, and thicker than one of his legs at the base. The entire length of his cock actually extended past Squall's head; the shaft passed over his shoulder, not quite touching his jacket, and the wet patter of precome dripping on the tiles sounded from behind him.

So he was pinned down by a huge, muscular GF and terrified for his life ( _again_ , a snide part of his brain noted), but he was still incredibly turned on (...again)— this close he could _smell_ the sweat damping the bull's leathery hide and the salty, bleachy smell of his precome dribbling out onto the floor.

Squall swallowed, and then slowly reached out a hand towards the bull's stomach. "I didn't know I was trespassing," he ventured, which wasn't _really_ a lie.

"WE HAVE TO GUARD THE TOMB," the minotaur said in a roar. "WE'RE SUPPOSED TO HURT ANYONE WHO COMES HERE."

"Um," Squall said, kind of awkwardly, "Do you have to do that?" He paused and looked at the minotaur, taking in his distracted, agitated expression and his still-hard cock. "...I can think of some other things I'd rather do," he said, and rubbed his hands through the stiff, short hair that covered his thighs, hardly believing he was actually doing this.

The minotaur made a noise that was probably a yelp in his register, but still deep and bestial to Squall. "W-WE'RE SUPPOSED TO GUARD THE TOMB!" he repeated, getting more distracted as Squall continued feeling across his thighs and stomach. The wet sounds of his flowing precome picked up, behind him.

"I didn't come here for anything from the tomb," Squall clarified, resting his hands against the hard muscle just above his dick. "I didn't even know there was anything here. But, uh," he continued speaking as he curled a hand around the base of his dick, coming nowhere near encircling it, "I think this might be more enjoyable for both of us."

The bull didn't seem to object as Squall slowly began jerking him off, just stared down with wide eyes.

"What's your name?" Squall eventually ventured, looking up into his face. He started stroking his cock with both hands, still not able to close them around the base.

"I'M CALLED S-SACRED," he said, after a pause in which he just stared at Squall's hands, already slick with his pungent precome.

"'m Squall," he said, a little distracted by Sacred's immense dick.

Sacred made a grunting, roaring sound Squall could not place at all, but didn't _sound_ threatening, especially when it was combined with the bull grinding his cock against Squall's hands. For once, _he_ was the one flushing, a red blush barely visible across his muzzle and neck. Squall's hands were _dripping_ with Sacred's precome, and the flash comparison between before, Sacred jerking off, precome sluicing across his knuckles, and now made a curl of heat run through his stomach.

There was no way he could jerk off his entire length; his cock bent up and over his shoulders, the tip of it trembled in the air behind him. He was still pinned under Sacred's weight, his own cock trapped under Sacred's immense, heavy balls. Neither of them were moving much, and Sacred's small movements as he rocked into his hands were just enough sliding friction to keep him rock hard without ever getting him off.

Squall settled with jerking off the part he could easily reach. His strokes made a wet slicking sound, like sweeping his hand through a scant measure of water— which was pretty much what was happening; precome was flowing from his cock like it was a hose, and the stuff was thin and watery but super slick. It splashed off his hands, the stuff building up under his palm as he stroked until it slung out against his body. He couldn't get a good look at the tip, but the knob looked even more swollen and red, and the pointed tip was flared out, wide open as he pumped out loads of precome. Most of it splattered behind him, but the small percentage that slid down his shaft was more than enough to slick it to dripping.

Sacred seemed content to stare, wild-eyed, at Squall as he jerked him off. His hands hung limply on his sides, fingers twitching when he slipped his fingers across his cock, splayed wide and pushing at the spongy flesh. He opened his mouth to pant, tongue lolling out as he stared at Squall jerking him off. The muscles of his stomach rippled and trembled as Squall jerked him off, and all six of his nipples were erect, each one like a huge fleshy cork. He could just barely reach the lowest set, and Sacred's entire body jerked back as he wrapped his slick fingers around the dark, erect flesh.

His undershirt was soaked through with Sacred's precome, his chest was mashed up against his cock. Squall's dick was rock hard, trapped under Sacred. He tried ineffectually to slide out from between Sacred's legs, but apparently he'd forgotten he'd pinned Squall down, and it seemed distemperate to stop jerking him off just to get him to move.

Sacred's precome was hot against his chest, and more constantly splattered down across him, until his undershirt had gone from damp to actually saturated with it, more pooling in messy clusters and sliding down across his sides.

"H-hold on," Squall said, surprising himself with how unsteady his voice was, and sat up enough to pull off his jacket, frowning at the thick splatters of precome already all across the inside and frowning more as he left further trails all along the inside as he pulled his dripping hands out. He tossed it to the side, hopefully far enough away that it would escape their mess.

That just reminded him that he was lying here, jerking off _a gigantic bull Guardian Force_ , in _full view_ of anyone who happened to come along any of the mazy passages in this section of the tomb.

He'd been aware, kind of, in the back of his head, that standing there and jerking off watching Sacred jerk off was improper behavior for a SeeD commander, and not just because he was (apparently) degenerate and perverted— SeeDs were supposed to subsume their own desires for the good of the mission, and he felt a guilty similarity to Seifer running off to satisfy his bloodlust during the SeeD exam. But here he was, satisfying his actual lusts, while as a SeeD commander he ought to book it out of there and get back to Deling so they could get back to planning their assassination mission.

Instead, he leaned forward and dragged his tongue across Sacred's cock, his precome copious enough that his mouth was full with the metallic, salty fluid after licking across just a short span of his cock. After a second he swallowed with his mouth still wide open, gulping down his thick, slippery precome as more spilled out across his face. He could feel it slide down his throat, thick and unusually warm, all the way until it hit his stomach.

He was being a terrible SeeD, but he _didn't care_. Or at least he didn't care right now. He could care later. Whatever.

It was impossible for him to lick further down or further up; altogether he wouldn't be surprised if Sacred's cock was his entire height in length. He pulled back eventually, his bare arms wrapped around the cock to get the highest possible amount of contact between them, his face feeling wet and greasy from the heavy splatter of precome left after pressing his head against the shaft.

Sacred looked completely bewildered, like he'd never ever done anything like this before and all he could do was stare with wild eyes as Squall jerked him off. It was a pretty satisfying look to be getting.

For his part, Squall bucked his hips up, grinding his cock against the thick, sweaty folds of Sacred's balls as he slid Sacred's cock through his arms, pressing the immense shaft tight against his chest as it slid back and forth, splattering even more precome, if it was possible, all across his neck and face. His hair was plastered to his skull, soaking wet.

Squall rubbed his hands back and forth along the base of Sacred's cock, his arms coated and dripping with long strings of precome, his cock slick and hot, pulsing and twitching as Sacred rumbled and groaned above him. The shaft jutted out, pressing against his chest and meshing against his hair, dripping and drooling across his head as it spurted out long trails of precome.

Sacred wasn't even moving his arms, planted solidly on the ground, his thick fingers spread wide. His ground his hips back and forth, sliding his sweaty balls against Squall's trapped cock, huffing and drooling as Squall kept stroking him.

His bellows and roars reached a crescendo and his cock seized upward, actually wrenching itself from Squall's loose grasp to slap up against his torso as he started to come. It _twisted_ somehow, curving around as the first shot lanced out with the force of a hose. It slapped against the ceiling and rained down behind them in fat droplets, more come already pumping out of Sacred's cock, now curved in a loose corkscrew. His urethra bulged out around the rim of the curve and a thick river of come ran down along the slight hollow it provided, dripping and splashing down onto Squall.

Squall grabbed at his cock, pulling it back forwards as Sacred continued grunting and spasming, his cock still jerking up strongly with each blast of come. Each one spurted out in a thick, long line, splattering across the hallway behind them or hitting high up on the walls and slowly drooling down.

Squall actually came in his pants, grinding up with one sharp thrust as he came in spurts, smearing it across his underwear and Sacred's hanging balls. Sacred didn't even notice, still coming just as hard. His cock lurched up and down with each powerful burst, splattering his come, thankfully, mostly behind them.

Squall shuddered and jerked his hips, grinding his aching cock against Sacred's rock hard thighs, his hips squelching wetly as the flood of Sacred's precome and come seeped under his balls and across his pants.

Sacred's orgasm slowly worked itself out, and he almost collapsed on top of Squall, sagging down and going limp, his cock still squirting out wet gouts of come as it unfurled slowly. Most of it just flowed down his shaft, coating Squall even more thoroughly with his load.

They both panted in silence for a long moment, Squall's afterglow slowly fading to leave him with sticky, tacky underwear and unable to smell anything over the rank, pungent reek of bull come.

"T-THAT WAS GREAT," Sacred said, his voice still deafening even when it was a relatively quiet groan. "I-I NEVER THOUGHT I'D DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT, BUT..." he trailed off, looking down at Squall, covered entirely in his precome, his undershirt soaking wet and translucent, with long streaks of opaque white drooling in layers across his body. "S-SORRY ABOUT THAT... THE MESS, I MEAN," Sacred said, and flushed again.

Squall swallowed, aware of how thickly he was coated. But, still. "No problem," he said, and leaned up, tracing his tongue along Sacred's dick down to the base, and then across the matted hair on his flank. Honestly, at this point he couldn't even taste it in his mouth, just a different texture of what was already saturating his taste buds. It was thick in his mouth and somehow clotted, but he swallowed it down. Sacred stared and jerked back, his blush visible across his face.

"UH." he said, and his fingers spasmodically twitched against the floor. "G-GOOD." His voice had actually slid upwards, into something that was probably a high register for him. But then he swung his head up, looking at the mess of the hallway. "I GOTTA GO— CLEAN UP," he said, and sat back on his haunches, finally letting Squall scramble out from beneath him and stand up.

The hallway was a total mess, of course. Sacred had shot most of his load all across the floor and walls. Only the smallest percentage had dripped back to coat Squall, and just that was enough to cover him head to toe. It had been a little hard to tell from his position on his back, but the floor (and walls, and ceiling) was seriously _covered_ in fluid, enough to slide into the gullies on the side of the hall and flow, slowly, toward the center of the complex.

"BIG BRO WILL BE MAD," Sacred said, almost sadly. "SO I GOTTA GO CLEAN THIS UP BEFORE HE SEES," he said, and after a weirdly awkward second he knelt down next to Squall. His head was still above him; even on his knees Squall only came up to his shoulders.

"BUT FIRST," Sacred said in what was probably an attempt at a whisper, then trailed off as he stooped down even lower, until he was almost on all fours but his head was finally level with Squall's.

What he was trying to do finally clicked when Sacred nervously licked his lips, the tip of his tongue about the size of Squall's entire face. But, obligingly, and with a hot thrill in his gut, Squall stepped forward and kissed him.

It didn't actually work out very well. Sacred's mouth was gigantic; his jaw as thick and broad and there was just too much of a size difference to do much of anything. Sacred basically slapped him in the face with his tongue, and Squall curled his hands around his huge jaw and pressed his mouth against his upper lip. He opened his mouth and ran his tongue across the soft surface of his lip, not really sure if Sacred could feel anything aside from a tickling sensation.

But this close he could see Sacred's eyes, focused on him, and he was _pretty sure_ this was the best they could hope for. Sacred pulled back with a bullish grin on his face, or something that could have passed for a grin, and Squall smiled back at him. Then Sacred shuffled to his feet and headed out into the maze with a lingering look back at Squall.

The floor shook under his feet and the clomp of his hooves echoed against the walls, but almost immediately after he turned a corner the sound faded away into a dull thump, and after another few seconds it was gone entirely.

But that left him alone and lost in the maze again, with the added difficulty of being completely coated in Sacred's load. It would be... _very_ bad to run into Rinoa or Irvine like this. And with the surreal lighting and acoustics of the place, he wouldn't be able to hear them until he'd run right into them.

He looked back into the room he'd seen Sacred first in— he'd left all his clothes and armor behind, too. And that was another worry, that _Sacred_ would run into Rinoa or Irvine.

Except, well, there wasn't much he could do if that happened, so there wasn't _actually_ any reason to focus on any of the dozen possible contingencies. It was better to focus on what he could accomplish right now: get cleaned up, meet up with the others, and get out of the maze. He was starting to be really glad that they'd gotten the SeeD ID# so quickly.

But the room Sacred had been inside was stark and boring— it was clearly at the edge of the Tomb, because he could see trees and growing things through the short, wide windows near the ceiling. He could hear rushing water, too, which was heartening. But there was no way he could climb up the sheer wall. If Sacred had stuck around, he could have lifted him up easily... oh well.

Somewhat interestingly, the block pillar that Sacred had been sitting on had risen up, like it was part of some mechanism. Come to think of it, had there been the sound of water in the background when he first saw Sacred jerking off? He hadn't been paying a lot of attention to anything other than Sacred, then.

The other thing was that it looked like the grooves in the hallway were designed to channel water, which implied there was some way to get water _inside_ the tomb. And, since he was sure he was at the edge of the place, he could follow the outside wall around in the hopes that the channel went all the way around the place.

Squall picked up both swords from where they'd come loose under Sacred and buckled his belts and gingerly grasped his jacket with one hand. At first his fingertips left greasy smears on the wall from the come coating them as he headed out of the room, following the right wall.

At least he wasn't leaving _footprints_. Most of what was going to drip off had already dripped off when he stood up in the first place, but that still left him with a filmy coating across his entire body. He was kind of afraid to brush a hand across his chest, because his shirt was soaking and would definitely leave a puddle if he tried to brush it off. It had even worked its way into his pants, just adding to the mess he'd made in his underwear.

Thankfully, after only a few bends around corners, the mazy passageways turned into another short hallway, ending in another room. And, _so_ thankfully, the far wall opened up at waist height, revealing a rushing channel of water that was, apparently, circling around the tomb.

Even more conveniently, there was a gate along the side of the channel. It was latched, but not very well; little streamers of water leaked out along the seams and the water occasionally slopped over the top of the channel and splattered down into the room. It gathered in little pools, some small amount winding across the floor and falling down through a grating just under the gate.

Squall didn't really care how the setup worked, he just opened the gate and knelt down on the grate, under the resultant waterfall. He sloshed water all across his hair and down his back, slowly replacing the thick cummy slush coating his undershirt with a substantially cleaner wetness. His hair was really a mess, though, and even after scrubbing his hands through it repeatedly it still felt thick and gummed together.

Still, it was definitely an improvement. Now he just looked like he'd fallen into a lake, instead of, well, being covered in bull come. His pants were probably a lost cause, though. The leather would never be the same after all of this. His jacket, thankfully, had been spared the worst of the mess, and it only took a few careful splashes to clean it off, although there was no way he was putting it back on until his arms dried off.

Squall stumbled to his feet, making a face as his feet squelched inside his boots. He kicked them off and upended them, letting the water drip out and flow down into the grate. He pulled his gunblade from its sheath and grimaced at the messy slurry of water and come that dripped from the blade; the sheath itself was full to the brim with it. He washed that out as well as he could and dumped it into the grate as well, then buckled his gunblade bare against his waist. He felt a little ridiculous with two blades and an empty sheath all hanging at his waist.

There was... something down there, past the grating, some large space apparently designed to hold water. It was awfully curious, but now that he was clean (clean-ish, he amended) he didn't really have an excuse to poke around any more instead of looking for Rinoa and Irvine.

So with boots that still squished and squelched a little and his jacked tossed over one arm, Squall headed back into the labyrinth, again following the right-hand wall. It curved around in the same way it had before, which meant that if the tomb was uniform in design he was on the other side of the place from where he'd met Sacred, and _hopefully_ the corner after this would be the entrance hallway.

The third room, after another short hallway, was an anticlimax. It was empty, and instead of a pillar or a waterway it contained a water wheel, sunk partway into the floor and apparently connected to the underground system in the previous room. There was a current running underneath the wheel, maybe his doing, but the wheel was locked in place with a shim.

Might as well, Squall figured, and pulled it out. The waterwheel turned ponderously with no other effect, but just as he turned to leave he felt _something_ activate beneath him. It was like a counterweight had fallen, or something had been pushed into place. There was a heavy thump that rattled the floor and then the sound of rushing water, from directly under him.

Even as he watched, the gullies in the hallway filled with water, just barely threatening to spill out over the floor. It flowed outward, into the maze. Squall walked to the first intersection, idly wondering if this would make Sacred's cleanup easier or harder, assuming he hadn't already finished it. Here, the water flowed away in both directions, but evidentially at some point went under the floor and reached the far gullies, further into the maze.

Squall looked both ways and then behind him, pondering. He was pretty sure he had a decent mental map of the place, and it might be worthwhile to see if he could meet Sacred again and see if he'd come with— or that was his excuse, at least, for walking forward, away from the outer walls.

He was very careful to remember what direction he'd come from, because it was already impossible to see the waterwheel room behind him in the general gloom. But he walked further along, passing another two dark intersections before abruptly coming out outside.

There was an open hollow in the center of the tomb, like someone had quarried out a cube of rock. But rising from the center of the empty space was a strange kind of building,  
like the empty space ringing it was a moat. And it looked like the labyrinth opened out into this center area from all the other directions too; he could see open archways in the surrounding walls of the same form as the one he was standing in.

The place was unexpectedly bright and verdant; heavy vines crept along the walls and their broad leaves concealed any view of the masonry. Small trees shot out from the crumbling lip of the pit and their gnarled roots trailed down into the moat. It was almost as if he'd stepped out into the middle of a forest.

The moat was still mostly dry; all the water along the gullies looked to be flowing here, but it was a deep moat and there was only just enough water to slosh around at the bottom. Although, he noticed, looking closer at the building in the center, it had a drawbridge on one side, facing the opening to the right.

He looked behind himself again, then jogged over in a circuit, to the next opening out into the center of the maze. It was definitely a drawbridge, he thought, and pretty much exactly as he did some mechanism in the moat clicked and clacked and the drawbridge swung down with a loud, extended clatter of chains.

Squall leapt backwards with a start as it opened up, revealing... something. The preternatural dark of the tomb continued in the central building, so that all he could see were the vague shapes of the walls, but... everyone called this place a tomb, but what he'd seen so far had been nothing like it. So if there was actually anything buried here, it would probably be here.

Squall stepped out across the drawbridge, feeling a little nervous in his squishing boots and ruined pants, his hair still dripping water. His steps clonked hollowly as he walked across the drawbridge, and the sharper sound of his footsteps on the rock was a welcome relief up until he realized he was definitely making too much noise to sneak into the room.

Once he was actually inside the room properly, though, it was easy to see. And, surprisingly, Sacred was there. He looked about as shocked to see Squall as Squall was to see him; he had been standing by the rear wall, standing on an immense coffin, looking up at something near the roof. He was still naked, so apparently he hadn't picked up his clothes yet.

He turned around as Squall entered the room and practically leapt back in shock, his eyes wide.

"Y-YO, YOU AGAIN?!" he yelped.

"Um," Squall said. "Hi?"

Sacred looked around too, a little nervously, Squall thought. "DID YOU GET LOST?" he asked in an attempt at a whisper.

"I guess... I got separated from my sq— friends. Uh. A while back."

"OH. WELL, THE EXIT'S THAT WAY." Sacred stomped over next to him and pointed back the way he came; now that he was closer Squall could see come splatters drying across his stomach. He still reeked like sex.

Sacred looked down and caught him staring at his sheath and flushed red, so much so that he could tell even under all his fur. Squall flushed as Sacred looked at him with a weird expression on his face.

"Um, sorry." Squall stepped back, away from Sacred.

"I-I JUST," Sacred said before stopping abruptly and covering his crotch with a hand, but not before Squall could see the tip of his cock peaking out from his sheath. "I NEVER DID ANYTHING LIKE THAT BEFORE."

"Do you, uh, think it was a mistake?" Squall asked, wondering if he was projecting his guilty lack of feeling guilty about it.

Sacred looked down at him and blinked slowly, thinking. "I DON'T KNOW. I MEAN, NO. I LIKED IT," Sacred said, and it was a little comforting that someone _else_ had conflicted feelings about the whole thing.

It was endearing, too, that Sacred was so... virginal about sex. Kind of how he felt, but more open about it. But since Sacred was tentative and unsure about it all, that made him feel like he needed to be sure of himself and confidant... like Ifrit or Diablos had been to him, he figured.

"We could do it again," he said before he could stop himself, staring straight up at Sacred's face.

Sacred didn't respond at first, but he could smell the bullish musk in the air abruptly increase, and that was followed a half-second later by the audible gush of precome from his covered dick, so much so that it ran down his fingers and dripped to the stone floor. Squall stepped forward and Sacred took a step back, but he dropped his hand to reveal his cock, jutting out half-hard.

"A-ARE YOU SURE?" Sacred asked, standing like Squall had him pinned against the wall even though he barely came up to his crotch.

"I'd do anything you want me to do," Squall said as he stepped forward again, close enough to run his hand against Sacred's hairy thigh. A practical shower of precome spurted out of Sacred's cock, half-hard and listing to the left, and splattered down on the stones next to him.

"...But if we're gonna do anything, I should get out of these clothes before they get ruined," Squall said, eying the dribbling tip of Sacred's dick. He stepped back and Sacred made absolutely no indication that he'd like to move, leaning against the wall with his cock rapidly sliding out him, his hands trembling against his thighs.

Squall tossed his jacket in the far corner of the room, hopefully far enough away to be untouched by whatever mess they were about to make. This was followed by his undershirt, his belts, both his gunblade and the SeeD blade, which he carried over hung on his belt instead of just tossing the entire contraption aside.

Squall glanced over at Sacred, staring evenly at him, and wondered what he was thinking, watching him strip. His cock was fully hard, arching up across his stomach all the way to between his huge pectorals, and it was drooling out precome, untouched. He wondered if Sacred was wondering why humans wore so many clothes, which was definitely what he was thinking as he unlaced his boots and kicked them off, followed by his socks and finally his pants and underwear in one soggy bundle.

So here he was, naked in the center of an ancient ruin, with a huge Guardian Force waiting around so they could fuck. This had almost become routine by this point. Squall looked over at Sacred and had to fight down the blush that he felt creeping across his cheeks as he walked back to Sacred.

The floor was cool and dry, hard stone with ticklish bits of dry grass sticking out between the cracks. The tiles near Sacred were wet with his precome and dark, with narrow lines of fluid running through the tiny gaps in a slowly-expanding splotch. Up close, between Sacred's huge thighs, he almost slipped at the unexpected slickness of it.

Looking up, it was hard to tell really how huge Sacred's cock was. His sheath was just below _eye level_ , and the whole thing towered up way above arm's reach. He grabbed around the base of it with both hands and interlocked his fingers on the other side, and in response Sacred let out a low, long bellow and pelted Squall's messy, matted hair with several thick strands of precome.

"So how do you want to do it?" Squall asked, looking up into Sacred's half-lidded, blissed out face.

"I DON'T— WHATEVER. ANYTHING YOU WANT TO DO—" Sacred said, and cut off with a blush.

Squall bit his lip, still inwardly nervous even if he wasn't showing it. "Um. Could you..." he said, and then started over in a more 'I-know-what-I'm-talking-about' tone. "Get down on your knees."

Sacred knelt down, and Squall could practically _hear_ his muscles contracting. He stepped back as Sacred lowered down, his hands sliding smoothly up his shaft, until Sacred's knees hit the ground with a rumble like an earthquake.

"Good," Squall said. Sacred's cock came up all the way to the bottom of his huge, jutting pectorals, practically level with Squall's eyes. All of his nipples were sticking out like corks, a purple so dark it was almost black.

"PLEASE," Sacred said, almost mumbling, his chest resonating with every sound he made.

"Please what?" Squall asked, honestly not too sure how to proceed aside from jerking him off again. The tip of his cock was weirdly shaped, like a bulb that came to an actual point at the tip, and he probably couldn't fit that into his mouth without a lot of work.

"PLEASE, _SIR_ ," Sacred groaned out, and thankfully he was looking aside, his eyes closed, so he didn't notice Squall's jaw drop. On top of everything else, _that_ was what finally made him blush.

Thankfully, Sacred kept looking down and away until he recovered from the shock of it and stepped close enough so that his cock slapped across his chest. Sacred made another lowing sound, like a drawn-out groan, and he spurted precome in a huge burst across his chest, the thick strands hooking across his shoulder and slapping down across his back.

Squall looked at Sacred's cock, still stroking the few inches near the tip. Sacred shot out another thick burst that splattered droplets into his hair and across the shell of his ear, then slowly dripped down across his cheek. He was _really_ glad he'd gotten a chance to strip this time.

"Sit down," Squall said, an idea coming to him. Sacred ponderously moved to obey him and he stepped back, releasing his cock. It slapped up against his chest and left a messy splatter behind. Sacred settled down on his ass with his back against the wall, his cock bobbing back and forth as he moved. His hooves slid a little against the rock as he finally sat down solidly, his face for once almost level with Squall's.

Squall tugged at Sacred's hips, just a guiding tug— there was no way he could pull any part of Sacred around unless he wanted to be moved. But he did slump down a little more, until he was resting on the back of his hips, with the base of his tail visible above his asscheeks, covered by his dangling balls.

He knelt down and placed a hand against his muscled gut, still looking up into his eyes. He traced along his muscles, his hair mussed and slippery with precome, down around the base of his cock and under his huge, dangling ballsack, to the huge muscled swell of his ass.

His balls alone trapped his hand with their sheer weight, and his sack was hanging loose, spread out between his thighs. He slid his hand back across the hairy skin of his ass, with the sweat-slick skin of his balls pressing against the back of his hand.

Squall followed the curve of his ass until he was digging between his two immense cheeks, and he had stuck his hand up to the wrist between his huge ass cheeks before his fingers touched against the pucker of his ass. It was almost disappointing; he'd wanted to maybe fuck Sacred, but there was no way he could even spread his cheeks wide enough for him to fit his cock all the way to his asshole.

Still, he pushed two slick fingers into Sacred's ass, all his arm below his elbow practically trapped behind his ballsack or between his cheeks. Sacred bellowed again as he wiggled back and forth, feeling inside his depths, and his cock let loose another huge pulse that splashed across his chest and slowly dripped down his body.

Sacred noticed before him; his asshole clamped down around his fingers and his whole body tensed up. Squall was so focused he wouldn't have noticed at all if it wasn't for that. He looked up at Sacred's face to find him staring at the entrance to the room, at the open archway.

"BRO!" he yelled out after a moment, and Squall figured that was his cue to pull his hand out of his asshole.

After a half-second another bull stepped out from around the doorway. This one was Squall's size, and dimly he figured he probably had matching clothes and weapons as Sacred, somewhere, but it wasn't that important because the bull was just as naked as them, and fully erect, and stroking his cock slowly as he stared at them.

"finally noticed me, bro?" the other bull said, cocking his head to one side. "don't stop on my account, i was hoping for a full show."

Sacred was flushed way redder than Squall had seen so far. "BRO!" he repeated, an embarrassed whine, and the other bull just laughed.

"i don't complain when you watch me fuck the tourists who come by," the bull said, and nodded his head in Squall's direction. "nice catch. i'm minotaur, by the way. that guy's older brother."

"Um." Squall said. "Hi."

"don't mind me," he said with an expression that could only be a leer, even on his bullish face. "i just want to see the show."

Sacred gaped and worked his mouth, but nothing came out. "B-BRO—" he started, but Minotaur interrupted him.

"is this really the time for this? you've got him on his knees, panting for your cock," he said, and if to punctuate it his cock drooled out a wet gush of precome that spun out in a long line and snapped, splattering to the floor.

Squall flushed and looked back at Sacred, who was still fully erect and drooling precome copiously, even as he blushed and stammered.

"Have you ever fucked anyone?" he asked, looking up at Sacred, and he looked away from Minotaur to look down at him. He already knew the answer, or at least he was pretty sure, but it was was satisfying to see Sacred stare down at him, eyes wide and mouth open.

"N-NO," was what he said finally, and he looked back and forth helplessly between him and Minotaur watching, openly. "A-ARE YOU SURE?" he asked almost immediately after, looking down at his cock, sluggishly dripping come across his pectorals, and Squall, who must have looked tiny kneeling between his thighs. "YOU REALLY WANT TO...? I COULD HURT YOU!"

"Not the whole thing, but I've been fucked by thicker cocks," Squall said, and then wondered if that was a mistake when Sacred's jaw dropped. Behind him, Minotaur let out a low whistle.

"IF YOU'RE SURE..." Sacred said, obviously kind of worried.

"Just... stay still," Squall said as he pulled his arm back and stood up. Sacred's cock was longer than the distance from his ass to his _head_ ; there was absolutely no way he could take the whole thing without killing himself. It was thicker than his _leg_ at the base, but it tapered as it went up, and the tip was hardly thicker than his own cock, excepting the almost fist-sized knob. It wouldn't be _easy_ , but it was definitely workable, for some of it at least.

Squall stepped up against Sacred's thigh, spreading his legs so that he could easily reach his own asshole. His fingers were slick with Sacred's precome, but nowhere near slick _enough_. Thankfully, Sacred was still pouring out streams of precome, and it was simple to swipe a hand across his chest, ruffling his hair all up backwards and coming back with his hand dripping strings of precome.

He arched back to more easily work his fingers into his ass. He always forgot until it happened how weird something pushing up inside him felt. He let out a little hiss of breath as he worked his fingers around, feeling the inner walls of his ass and trying to relax his asshole. His wrist ached a little from the position he was in, arched backwards with two fingers on his left hand worked up inside him.

Sacred was still staring at him like he didn't know what to do, but he eventually brought one of his huge hands up and loosely curled it around his leg, apparently content to just look at him while he opened himself up.

Squall couldn't resist letting out a groan as he curled his fingers forward, dragging them across the front wall of his ass. Sacred's eyes went wide all over again as he twitched, muscles convulsing across his chest and abdomen.

He bent down across Sacred's chest, steadying himself with one hand, and spread his legs even wider. His face was practically pressed up against Sacred's shaft, and Sacred apparently found this a good time to slide his hand upwards, brushing his thick fingertips across his tight balls. Squall groaned and abruptly staggered, just barely managing to whip his other hand back to catch himself against Sacred's body before he toppled over.

Sacred tentatively quested upwards, feeling across his ass with his huge hand. Squall shuddered as he delved down between his spread cheeks, cautiously pressing one of his huge fingers against his asshole.

"Careful," Squall said, and was surprised by how hoarse his voice came out. "If you wanna give it a try, get your finger slick first... and only use one."

Sacred looked down at him, again with the wild "I-don't-know-what-I'm-doing" look in his eyes that was getting familiar by now, his gaze still flicking back and forth between him and where Minotaur presumably stood, watching.

"Look," Squall said, and leaned forward on one arm. He reached back and grabbed Sacred's hand and guided him forward, to his own dripping cock. At his guidance, he gave it a few strokes and then a slow stroke upwards, leaving both their hands coated in thick, slippery precome. Squall pulled him back, until his hand was poised at his ass again, and then let him go.

Sacred looked over him again, practically gaping, and then when Squall was starting to despair him ever taking a move he slowly reached forward, pushing his slick index finger against the ring of his asshole.

Squall grunted lowly and squeezed his eyes shut as Sacred pushed his finger into him, past the tight, gripping ring of his ass. His fingers were _thick_ , and he tried to relax his ass and push out, opening up his asshole as Sacred slowly pushed in deeper. His fingers were _long_ , too— they looked stumpy and bullish, but only because his hands were so broad. Just one was about the size of a normal cock.

Sacred pushed up against the front of his ass and Squall felt his whole body shudder, his mouth opening to let out a squeaky moan like it was an automatic reaction. Sacred tensed underneath him for a fraction of a second before he realized it had been a good sound, not a pained cry.

Then he tried it again, tentatively dragging his finger back and forth across his ass until he hit it again and Squall yelped and sagged forward, sandwiching Sacred's cock between their bodies, most of it still spanning way up above his head as he pressed against his stomach.

"Okay," Squall said, trying to form words out of the sounds he was involuntarily making. "Okay, aah," he said as he sat forward, pulling himself off of Sacred's finger to lie limply on top of his stomach, his cock spurting and dripping between them.

His legs felt wobbly as he climbed up Sacred's thighs and even up across his chest, his hide feeling weird against his feet. He was practically straddling his head by the time the tip of his cock was actually _behind_ him. Sacred opened his mouth and licked across the length of his cock, his huge tongue pressing his cock straight up against his stomach as he lapped at it.

Squall groaned and held on to his horns, but slowly managed to grasp hold of Sacred's cock and slowly lower himself down until the pointed bulb tip pressed against his ass, still dripping precome out that ran down across his ass and thighs.

Sacred tensed up like he didn't know what to expect as Squall spread himself open. The bulbed head practically popped into him with a wet slurp, only a brief moment of pressure and a little pang before he got used to the thick shaft spreading him open and the larger heft of the bulbed tip inside him.

Sacred gaped for a long moment, and Squall could feel his cock rhythmically pulse inside him, spurting wet lines of precome. Squall breathed loudly as he slowly sunk down his cock, taking more with almost surprising ease. It was relatively thin at first, but got thicker and thicker the more he took inside, huffing and panting as the bloated tip knocked against his insides.

Squall was so focused on the sensation of his cock driving up into him that when Sacred lapped at his cock he almost toppled backwards in surprise and only Sacred bringing up his hands to catch him kept him from a painful impalement. His breathing sounded even more ragged in his ears with Sacred's cock filling his ass and his huge tongue lapping across his dick.

Squall slowly squatted down further, and Sacred craned his shoulders forward to match so that he could keep lapping and sucking on his dick, his mouth far too large for him to really take it in. But finally he could feel Sacred's dick hit some inner wall inside him, pulling a surprised moan out of him.

He panted for a few moments, astraddle Sacred with his legs bent and his hands wrapped around his huge horns, Sacred's hands supporting his weight across his back and legs. His breath hitched as he shifted slightly and Sacred's cocked dragged back and forth across his ass, already feeling like it was stuffing him to capacity.

But then finally he arched up and his cock abruptly slid into place; the bloated tip lined up neatly with the end of his ass, pushing up into his guts. Even aside from his spread-open asshole, red and flexed wide around his huge cock, it felt like the tip was pressing through another tight passage deeper inside him, the bulb of his cockhead plugging him up as his cock slowly slid into his guts.

Sacred's whole body jerked and his cock _twisted_ inside him, another hot gush of precome spurting up inside him and slightly easing the way, slicking him up inside as he sunk lower. Sacred's cock was almost painfully hard inside him, pushing deeper and deeper until he could hardly believe there was room inside him to take that much and still he hadn't taken anything close to even half his cock; his heels were still resting across his chest, nowhere even close.

His shaft was almost painfully wide, and his asshole felt stretched out, dilated as wide as he could go, even as the tip pushed through his guts, spurting more and more precome, making him flush with the heat of it inside him. His cock kept twisting and spasming, pumping his slick precome, and he could diffusely feel it slosh through his guts; it felt _heavy_ inside him, and moreso with each wet burst.

He wanted to take more inside him, to stretch his ass wider and somehow fit all of the immense length inside his guts, but there was just no way. He froze in place for a long moment, resting against Sacred's hands until his legs stopped wobbling and he could slowly push himself up. Sacred's cock slid out of him slowly, the head dragging through his guts in reverse. It felt like it was going to pull him inside-out, he was so tightly clasped around the shaft.

His cockhead pulled out of his guts with a rubbery pang, and he felt _empty_ without it so deeply inside him. The mass of precome pumped up into his guts sloshed out like he'd pulled the cork from a barrel, and it poured out through his ass and around Sacred's thick cock as he pulled off, slurping out of him in messy lines.

Sacred's cockhead pulled out of him with a wet pop as he stood up completely, followed by a wet gush of precome from his spread-wide ass. He could still feel more precome held up inside him, so far up in his guts it couldn't just pour out of him.

Sacred was still lapping across his dick; he'd hardly even noticed it as he'd fucked himself. His cock was only half-hard, thick and long but almost rubbery, his cockhead flared red and dripping precome. He twitched and stiffened as he watched, but before he could get fully hard again he pushed Sacred's cockhead into his ass, wanting all of it inside him again.

This time it was easier to slide down; his cock smoothly pushed its absurd length inside him, hosing down his ass with thick bursts of precome that slowly dripped out around his cock, running down Sacred's shaft and drooling down onto his muscled abdomen. He pushed up into his guts without any hesitation, and he bit his lip to stifle a moan the next time Sacred let loose a burst of precome, his knobby cockhead once again plugging it all up in his guts. The pulses of pressure as Sacred's cock twitched and pumped precome into him were almost painful, but with each one his own cock let out a dribble of precome, that Sacred lapped up quickly.

It was hard to tell if he was going deeper; his guts were saturated with his slippery precome and it was still drooling from his ass, but eventually he bottomed out. His guts turned and twisted in another direction, and with his cockhead pressed up against the fold of his guts it felt like he was going to unwind them, but no matter how much he bobbed back and forth, flushed in the face and panting, slamming Sacred's cockhead against his pliant insides, he couldn't fit any more inside him.

With each pulse of Sacred's cock inside him, his own dick shot out a long string of precome, like the pressure itself was forcing it out of his body. Sacred lapped at his cock more readily, his huge tongue swiping across his thighs and stomach with each lick.

His guts felt bloated and full and Sacred kept pumping more and more precome into him, until he felt like he might burst. Sacred's body jerked spasmodically as his cock shuddered inside him, and his breath was hot and wet across his stomach as he panted. He tried to thrust up inside him, futilely rocking Squall up with him as he rose with his feet balanced on his hips.

Squall opened his mouth to say something, warn him not to do that, but before he could speak he heard a clatter from behind them. Minotaur's bullish hands pressed against his ass, across his spread asscheeks, and tracing around his immensely dilated asshole. One of his hands felt down, across Sacred's shaft, and his whole cock jerked solidly, wrenching at his guts and knocking the breath out of him.

"'m amazed you managed to fit that all in." Minotaur's breath was warm and humid against the back of his thigh. Squall couldn't tell which of them he was talking to. "finally getting some tail," he said, and did something that made Sacred pulse out another burst of precome, all of it stuck up in his guts.

Both of the bulls were panting, Sacred with huge low breaths like a bellows, and Minotaur in shorter, sharper breaths that made the hair on his thighs spike up in goosebumps.

"pull off for a second," Minotaur said, and it was almost a moan. He vainly pushed against his asshole, open to absolute capacity, his fingers digging against his stressed flesh, red and raw.

"B-BRO," Sacred said, his eyes closed and his head thrown back as Minotaur started stroking him, his fist smacking soundly against Squall's ass on each upstroke.

Slowly, between all three of them, they lifted Squall off of Sacred's cock. He felt so tightly stretched it seemed like a miracle that he could even pull off, pull out, but eventually he did. Sacred's cocktip popped out of his guts with another swift pang, and floods of precome poured out around it, flooding out of his ass in loud slurps. His asshole didn't even stretch as his cockhead emerged, and even afterwards he could feel it gape open, wide open as precome slurped out across his red, bruised skin.

Minotaur let out a sound like a moan as Squall finally pulled off and practically toppled backwards. Sacred lowered him down slowly, but he let him go once his feet touched the floor and his legs just collapsed, completely unable to carry his own weight. He ended up on his knees again, only managing to stay partially upright with his hands splayed wide against the dark, slippery flagstones, his trembling arms just barely managing to hold him.

"turn around," Minotaur said, and Squall could feel him step forward, a low heated wave of air in the brief moment before his cock pressed against him, precome raining down on his matted hair and sliding down the side of his neck.

It took a long moment for him to even coordinate his limbs, much less get them to hold his weight, but Minotaur seemed willing to wait, sliding his cock minutely back and forth against Squall's skin as he turned.

Squall finally turned himself around, Minotaur's cock sliding across his face until it butted against his nose, the tip still dribbling precome into his hair. He hadn't really noticed on Sacred before of the proportions involved, but their cocks were _thin_. Minotaur had to be over a foot long, but his cock started out just a little thicker than Squall's own and tapered down to the width of his finger, with a little knobby bulge at the tip that was the size of a small walnut, or a large marble.

Minotaur just grabbed hold of his head and pushed him back, pulling his own hips back so he could angle the tip of his cock right at his mouth. Squall already had his mouth open, tongue lolling out, and when Minotaur thrust inside he just sealed his lips around his shaft and twisted his tongue around his cocktip. He tasted almost exactly the same as Sacred, rank and bullish, and Minotaur wasted no time starting to thrust back and forth, repeatedly almost plugging his throat with the bulge at the tip of his cock. He was constantly leaking precome too, just the same as Sacred, and what he couldn't manage to swallow dripped out the sides of his mouth in streams.

He must have been worked up from watching them, because he came almost immediately, flooding his mouth unexpectedly with his load, coming in huge bursts that left Squall coughing for breath as he drew back. His cock twisted up too, in a tight helix, and he entwined his fingers with it as he came, streaking Squall's face with streamers of come, splattering into his mouth and shooting up his nose and glazing across his tightly-closed eyes.

Minotaur finally stepped back, breathing hard as the rest of his load spurted out first across Squall's chest and dripped down to his cock, then drooled out the dregs across the floor, already dark and slick and pungent with Sacred's unceasing flow of precome.

Squall wiped across his face several times with the back of his hands before he cracked open an eye.

"good job," Minotaur said with another leer, his fingers still twined around his corkscrewed cock. "i can see why my brother likes you."

Squall would have turned to look at Sacred, except he felt like he was made from lead, heavy and completely beyond his ability to move. Plus, the soft wet patter of Sacred's precome dripping and spurting from his cock hadn't let up at all, if anything coming louder and heavier.

"i'll show you a trick," Minotaur said, and reached out a hand to trace across Squall's check, his fingers leaving furrows in the thick layers of his come. "not much use to me."

Squall could feel the magic pulse through them, but he was in no condition to figure out what, if anything, it had done.

"get back on his cock," Minotaur said, his low voice even harsher. "you won't stretch further, but you won't rip apart trying to take it all."

Squall could hardly even _follow_ it, but Scred was the one who effortlessly picked him up and turned him around, setting him on his chest like he was a doll. Sacred really was pissing precome now, in huge gushes that didn't let up at all. He managed to spray precome up and down across his back in the brief moment before he pushed in, and the swollen, red bulge of his cockhead pushed into his broken-in ass without any resistance.

"you don't have to go easy," Minotaur said, and in his low voice it sounded almost like a threat. "he won't break, now."

Sacred gaped again, his flush darkening even as his cock kicked at Squall's insides. He let out another huge gush of precome just as he pushed back into his guts, and half of it sprayed out from his slack asshole as the rest just forced back inside him, the heat and pressure of it by now familiar. Sprawled out bonelessly across Sacred's stomach, Squall could swear he could see his stomach ripple and expand with each pulse. He was already sore and swollen; he wasn't sure he wanted to find out what would happen if Sacred actually came inside him.

Minotaur slid his hand across Squall's calves, near the ankle, and he looked down in time to catch him grinning up at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was harsh rasping pants. Sacred whimpered as he gasped for breath, and he could feel another series of huge bursts shoot up inside him.

Sacred was in as deep as he'd been before, and he felt as impossibly full and sore as before, but Sacred tried to pull him lower, deeper, and his asshole just refused to go any further. It felt like a band of iron ringing his insides, pliant until he was stretched to his limits. Sacred curled a huge hand around his body and pulled him up before slamming him back down, and a roar of something that _ought_ to have been pain surged through his body, but instead he let out a great sobbing cry and came, his cock jerking spasmodically as he shot out his load across Sacred's hide.

There was an unyielding pressure at his asshole, and it took a little jerk of effort before Sacred could pull him up off his cock. He'd taken more of his impossibly-thick cock, but by squeezing his shaft tighter, not by ripping himself open. Squall just tiredly let his legs hang loose and draped his arms around Sacred's huge fist as he pulled him up and down. With each pulse and jerk of Sacred's cock inside him the feeling of pressure peaked, his asshole squeezing impossibly firmly around his shaft as it flared and tensed.

Sacred's hands fixed around his legs and he turned him back and forth with a wrench. Squall's cock twitched, stiffening again already as Sacred twisted him around his cock, driving it a fraction of an inch deeper. Squall grunted and moaned, inarticulate, and Sacred bowed his head forward to kiss him sloppily, his tongue curling around his chin as his cock gave a final hard pulse inside him.

It _twisted_ , the whole immense length of it rocking like it had been pulled to one side. It knocked the breath of out him from the inside, and he was open-mouthed, gasping for breath when the first spurt of come hosed up inside him.

Sacred's cock twisted again, like the whole thing was contracting, and his cock curled around with a gut-stretching spasm that he could _hear_ , a low wet slurp coming from inside him as Sacred came. His whole cock was curling around, corkscrewing inside him. The absolute mess of precome made it slide easy through his guts, warping them around his cock as he pumped more and more come up inside him, trapped in his guts by his bloated shaft.

He could feel his guts jerk out of place, caught sheathing Sacred's huge cock as it helixed around inside him. The leg-thick shaft beneath him spiraled as well and pulled some small part of it out of him as it curled up, pulling a distorted wet slap out of his guts as his head dragged backwards with a rough, rubbery motion.

He felt ready to explode, his guts saturated far beyond capacity with Sacred's load, and as Sacred pulled him a fraction of an inch up he could feel his guts stretch around his cock with a messy wet slurp a fraction of a second before his come started pouring out of him.

His asshole felt red and raw but he could feel Sacred's thick, stringy come slide out through the mess of precome already coating him and run down his legs in thick clumping lines. He just struggled to breathe as Sacred kept coming, more and more come rushing out of him as Sacred kept pumping more in. The wet heat of his come still crept higher and higher inside him, each blast forcing what was inside him deeper, until he could feel it under his ribs.

Squall gaped and panted for breath as Sacred tried to thrust back and forth, his cock sliding in and out at weird angles. He was still spurting come into him with the force of a hose, all of it shooting up deep inside his guts only to pour out of his distended asshole as Sacred pulled him back and forth on his immense cock.

Squall's dragging feet finally found traction on Sacred's dripping, slick hide around when his orgasm started to die down, and the last few pulses shot into his ass as he slumped forward, until his cockhead pulled out with a wet slurp, even more come coming out in a messy gush. Squall just gasped for breath as he sprawled out boneless across Sacred's chest, both of them smeared with his come.

Sacred seemed content to just breathe, his cock still slowly spurting messy strings of come that drooled along the inner spiral of his cock, most of it dripping out across his belly or onto Squall's back.

Without letting a moment pass, Minotaur pushed up against his, his cock sliding across Squall's slick back until the tip caught on the flushed, distended rim of his asshole. He pushed it in with a wet squelch and his entire cock sunk inside him with absolutely no resistance, even the final new inches of his fury, matted sheath pushing inside his asshole.

Sacred was still panting for breath, his cock fully hard and locked in its spiral. It reached halfway up his chest even curled up, and come still poured from the tip in a messy drizzle, down the inside of the helix. As Minotaur started thrusting into him, Squall braced himself, barely, against Sacred's heaving flanks, his arms spread on either side of his cock.

"that was fucking hot," Minotaur growled in his ear as he hilted his cock savagely inside him. His cock was long, and thick at the base, but it was nothing compared to Sacred. Come was still pouring out of him, and each thrust brought forth a messy spurt of come, splattering all across his back and coating Minotaur's chest in stringy lines.

Minotaur pulled him up and away from Sacred, his back bending back in an arch as all his weight came to rest on Minotaur's broad hips. He thrust forward, and Squall almost collapsed again, his arms just barely managing to hold himself.

Minotaur released him and let him fall down against Sacred's hips. Squall was too tired to even look up; he was sure Sacred was looking down at him. Sacred's cock was softening slowly, his come running down his rippled stomach in thick lines. Minotaur hammered his ass, rocking him against Sacred's body, all his weight on his chest and shoulders as he slowly slid forward, kneeling between Sacred's legs practically lying on top of his cock.

Minotaur reached down with both hands and easily fit several fingers into him alongside his dick. His asshole felt thick and rubbery, and Minotaur hooked his fingers around inside him and pulled, opening his asshole wide. He kept fucking, his cock not even touching the sides of his fingers as he drove it directly into his red insides.

Squall felt like he was in a daze, unaware of anything aside from Minotaur's pounding thrusts and the bloated stretch off his guts as Sacred's come leaked out of him, but it seemed like it didn't take long before Minotaur bellowed and slammed his cock all the way inside him, his shaft spiraling up again as he came inside him. He came in huge wet bursts Squall was surprised he could still feel, and it all sloppily poured out of him, their loads indistinguishable.

Minotaur pulled out with a long wet slurp, his spiraled cock rippling along his ass until the very tip emerged with a pop and he shot the rest of his load across Squall's back, his come just mixing with the layers of fluid already sliding across his skin.

He distantly felt Minotaur pull away after he was spent, and after a half-second Sacred moved too, gingerly placing him down on the ground. He mostly concentrated on breathing, his breath coming hard and fast as he tried to ignore his bulging, roiling guts. He wasn't broken anywhere, but he still ached all over.

The two bulls were talking, but he couldn't make out their words, even though Sacred's voice still made the rocks shake. But eventually whatever conversation they were having wound down, and Minotaur knelt beside him.

"hey. squall. you mind if we come with you?" he said, and even though it was a question it didn't really sound like one. Squall didn't even try to say anything, he just shook his head, once. "okay. good." Minotaur pressed a finger against his forehead, both of them still slick with fluid, and after a half-second there was a bone-rattling thud as Sacred went down on his knees beside him and pressed one much larger finger besides Minotaur's.

This time the junction didn't feel like much of anything, or maybe he was just too tired and aching to catch the feeling of their pattern seeping into him. It didn't take much time for them both to dissolve away as they pushed their way into his head, but once they slotted neatly into place it was like someone had lit the world on fire.

He could feel it building for a second, and with both of them in his head it was suddenly second nature to identify Minotaur's spell on him and the well of energy beneath him. The first pulse shot into him with the familiar feeling that it ought to have hurt, but instead it felt like that same iron-banded pressure all across his skin and insides in one shattering blow.

His guts lurched back into place with a sound almost like his stomach growling. He took an abrupt breath, like someone had thrown a glass of cold water in his face, as he felt his guts tense, the sluggish flow of come seeping out of him suddenly spurting out forcefully as his guts buckled back into shape, forcing their combined loads through him, some pushing up even deeper inside him as most of it poured out of him. His stomach still bulged outwards slightly, like he'd just eaten a huge meal, but it was nothing compared to the swollen potbelly he'd had before.

He hadn't even noticed coming, but his cock was rock-hard and dripping abruptly, and when the second wave of energy hit him he felt the wet splatter as he shot again all across his chest. He staggered to his feet, more thick come oozing out of his ass and down his legs. The next surge lanced up through his bare feet and he staggered drunkenly, almost falling down.

He was only hazily aware as he staggered out of the central room and onto the drawbridge; the energy surging up through him cut off abruptly as he pushed himself off the drawbridge and fell in the water with a loud splash.

He still felt hazy and a little sore, but it was nothing like the almost-unconscious stupor he'd been in. Sacred had really done a number on him, and he'd junctioned to them... weirdly. He treaded water slowly and stayed under the drawbridge, for all the good it would do him if Rinoa or Irvine came by.

It felt like come washed off him in _sheets_ , he was covered with so much of it. His hair was matted to his skull, and even after dunking his head several times and scrubbing it with his hands it still felt heavy and weirdly thick. Hopefully he didn't smell too bad.

He hesitantly reached down to his ass, his hole clenched tightly shut. It felt raw, throbbing with every heartbeat, and he could tell just how thickly swollen it was when he ran his fingers across it. He pushed a finger inside tentatively, gasping as that brought a rush of water with it. More come poured out of him, like there was absolutely no end to it. He tried it a few times, opening up his ass to the cool water, only to clench tight and force it out afterwards, mixed with a cloud of come.

He hauled himself out of the moat eventually, once he figured he was as clean as he was going to get. The load pumped far inside him still weighed in his guts, heavy and almost sloshing as he moved, but if he tensed his abs he could conceal his bulging stomach. He stood dripping wet on the warm stones for a long moment, trying to get used to the rush of energy pulsing upwards from the ground. His cock twitched with each pulse, slowly thickening to full hardness as he waited. He leaned heavily against the wall as he re-entered the tomb to get his clothes, thankfully on the other side of the room from the absolute mess they had made.

His clothes felt weird after everything; his underwear clung tight to his wet skin. He was fully hard again by that time, and he had to tuck his cock into his boxer-briefs, its length bulging out obscenely as he put the rest of his clothes on. His undershirt was still damp from _last_ time he'd washed off and it stuck to his body like a second skin. The energy diminished to a small trickle when he put his boots on, and he shrugged his heavy jacket on, disregarding his damp undershirt and wet shoulders.

Walking was easier than he'd expected; the powerful rushes of energy from the earth had healed him up. His asshole felt _swollen_ , and come was still leaking out of him in small spurts every few steps, but it was nothing like the unsettling ache it had been before. His wet skin and damp clothes chafed a little as he walked.

He'd almost forgotten his mental map as he walked out of the tomb, but by the time he got to the first intersection it was coming back to him. It felt almost like his legs were being guided by some unknown force, but at any rate the path was simple: straight ahead.

He passed through several dark, quiet intersections, and it wasn't until he passed through the final one he realized there was a growing light ahead. He stepped out into the open air, at the entrance of the tomb again finally. His stomach fell when he saw no sign of Irvine or Rinoa anywhere, and he had just enough time to start worrying about the dozens of ways things could have gone horribly wrong before the air... twisted, somehow, around to, to reveal both of them sitting on the crumbling wall beside the entrance, Irvine watching the entrance he'd just walked through while Rinoa stared at the walls of the tomb, probably planning to climb all over it.

He could see Irvine's mouth move for a fraction of a second before his voice cut in abruptly. He had been saying something; he had no clue what, because immediately he yelled and jumped to his feet.

"Squall!" he said, and he was echoed after a half-second by Rinoa, who whirled around to face him.

"Where'd you come from?" Irvine said, before Rinoa could say anything else. He sounded relieved.

Squall opened his mouth to say something, anything, because he had no clue what that had been, but in the fraction of a second between that and actually speaking he had a flash of insight that felt suspiciously GF-induced. "Diablos has an ability to hide me from monsters," he said like it was the most obvious thing. "I suppose it hid me from you two as well for a moment."

Irvine made a face. "GFs are weird."

Squall shrugged. "...I got lost, also. But I found another GF in the center of the ruins— that was probably what General Caraway sent the other SeeDs out here for."

"Um, on that note," Rinoa said, tentatively. "You kind of took a while in there, so..."

"Right," Squall said decisively. "We need to get back to Deling as soon as we can and report back." He swung the other sword on his hips. "This blade, as well as the GF, should be sufficient evidence for the General."

He stopped talking and there was an awkward pause as Rinoa and Irvine kept looking at him.

"So, um, let's go," he said, flushing abruptly, and he heard both of them laugh at him as he stepped forward, already aiming for the black line of Deling City on the horizon. It seemed just his luck, of _course_ he'd be dripping wet and have his guts sloshing with come from getting fucked by a gigantic bull GF when he _still_ had a busy night ahead. He was pretty sure he could feel _all_ of his GFs laughing at him.


	4. Galbadia Garden

Galbadia Garden was empty when they arrived. The grounds were absolutely deserted, and the only sounds from the inside were the howls of monsters, released from the training area.

They knew Sorceress Edea was somewhere inside, and so they made their way forward — himself, with Selphie and Irvine flanking him. He supposed he was the SeeD Commander now more than ever: directing the mercenary army to fulfill its true mission of combating the Sorceress. He still wasn't sure he was up to it. He still wasn't sure what being up to it meant.

The doors of the Garden were mostly sealed, forcing them to wander through tortuous spirals and loop-back hallways; the few unlocked doors opened onto empty rooms. There was probably a more efficient way of searching than this, but for once Squall didn't know what it would be.

It was more luck than skill that had them in the right hallway at the right time. There was a scraping noise from behind one of the doors, like furniture being moved, and all three of them went on alert, eyes tracking to the door the noise had come from.

The stepped in front of the door and Squall signaled silently to Irvine and Selphie, and as a coordinated unit Irvine kicked down the door and moved in, Selphie and Squall a half-second behind.

The room was one of the student dorms, and currently contained one terrified but stoic student. He looked over at them, hands raised. "Please don't kill me! I'm not your enemy!" he said, in a rather tense voice. "The Army stormed in here and took over the place. They kicked most of the students out." He looked over them, briefly. "You came to fight the sorceress, right? You should take that," he said, and gestured towards something lying on his desk. A key card. "We locked as many doors as we could to try and stop the Army. I don't know where they are," and here he swallowed and looked close to tears, "but my two friends should be around somewhere with the other keycards."

Squall nodded to Irvine, who took the keycard from the desk. Squall looked back at the kid, who had to be 16 or 17. Just about ready to try for the SeeD exam, if the Galbadian rules were anything like Balamb's. He tried to think of something reassuring to say, something to keep his spirits up. "Thanks," he said, coming up blank. Hopefully that had sounded short and concise instead of weird and awkward. Hopefully they looked like experienced SeeDs who knew what they were doing, and not a motley collection of gawky teenagers only a little older than the student. "Let's go," Squall said, and left.

He was pretty sure Irvine and Selphie were exchanging glances behind him, as usual, as they walked through the echoing hallways. He'd passed by a few key-locked doors on the way there, meandering through the Garden, and he traced his path back, trying the keycard at each one.

The third door opened up directly onto the central plaza, with a higher mezzanine ringing directly above them. Except perched in the very center of the large room was a huge monster: a mutant, deformed dog. Immensely huge, and its ears perked up at the sound of the door whirring open. Its head — _three_ heads, Squall saw with a shock of horror — swung up and focused on them as it turned to face them.

Squall was already stepping back through the door, coming up against Selphie and Irvine retreating more slowly. But then the monster lunged at them and there was a moment of extreme excitement. Squall remembered yelling commands at the top of his lungs as Irvine dived to one side, shrieking. Irvine managed to clamber up the stairway to their right just as the dog tore through the doorway like it was made from tissue paper, the thin metal rending with a shriek.

He and Selphie turned tail and ran back the way they came, feet pounding against the linoleum. There was a rending crash from behind, and he ventured a glance, only to see the monster racing down the hallway towards them, eyes glowing, tongues lolling, and sparks flying from the armored plates on its shoulders as they scraped against the walls.

They were coming up on a cross intersection, and he glanced over at Selphie. "We should split up!" he yelled over the noise of crashing metal and tearing floor behind them. "It can only chase one of us!"

Selphie didn't look particularly happy with that plan, and to be honest neither did Squall — _interesting_ did not even begin to cover the experience the person being chased would have.

"If it goes after me, follow the trail it makes!" he yelled, "meet up with Irvine if you can!"

Selphie nodded resolutely, mid-stride, and not a half-second later they hit the intersection. She came down on her left foot, abruptly kicked off at a ninety degree angle and was gone down the right hallway almost instantly.

Squall prepared to do roughly the same thing, but his boot slipped across the smooth floor, just enough for him to completely lose his balance and slam him into a wall. He went down practically on all fours for a second, dazed and confused as the monster crashed closer. He stumbled to his feet, drew an aching breath, and dashed down the corridor, in the opposite direction Selphie had gone.

Unexpectedly, and probably because his slip had cost him almost all of his lead, the monster went after him. Its claws scrabbled against the tiles as it followed in close pursuit. Squall could _feel_ its breath against his back, and the floor trembled under his feet as the monster pounded close behind him, leaving a trail of devastation in its wake.

Squall ran as fast as he could, feet flying over the dirty linoleum completely irrespective of his brain yelling and screaming. There was just some deep-down reflexive action for when being chased by something huge with slavering teeth: he ran. The wide, lofty corridors of Galbadia Garden were probably both convenient and easy to look at, but they were a distinct handicap when being chased by a gigantic demon dog; every single branch was wide enough for the monster chasing him to fit through easily, and even on all fours it had to be twice his height.

All the corridor doors, which lead to presumed safety or at least a dangerous situation that wasn't being chased by a huge, slavering monster, were closed. He had absolutely no confidence that he had enough lead to take the time to struggle with opening a potentially-locked door.

Finally, just as his muscles were starting to burn rather than just ache, something wonderful came into view around the gentle curve of the corridor: a pair of swinging doors, wide but not as wide as the monster's shoulders, invitingly a half-inch open already. Squall lunged, teeth snapping at his heels, and crashed through the doors, followed immediately by one of the monster's heads, the other two far too wide to fit through. There was a crash as the monster slammed into the hallway wall, its other two heads cracking violently against the wall on either side of the door.

Squall inadvisedly looked back over his shoulder, then skidded and fell as he ran straight onto what turned out to be a frozen skating rink. The monster snapped and snarled at him, its burning yellow eyes tracking his every movement, but after a second it withdrew, and the heavy doors flapped shut after it.

Squall kept panting, shakily getting to his feet. His entire body was trembling with adrenaline and his legs burned from the effort of running. He staggered across the ice to the far door, not once taking his eyes off the doors behind him, where he could still vaguely see moving, interlocking shapes through the translucent panes in the door.

It was with a crash followed by a roar in three parts as the monster tore through the wall. Massive chunks of plaster and wood shredded as debris flew everywhere. Half the wall tore apart as the monster's huge heads and broad shoulders pushed through the gap. Squall started so hard he slipped again, and went slowly spinning across the frictionless ice.

The monster shook all three of its heads, ears flopping back and forth, shaking off chunks of rubble as it walked entirely into the large room. Squall jerked, rushing as fast as he could towards the far doors, but once fully inside the room the monster slammed a paw to the ground with a rumble like an earthquake, and a shining, sparking barrier rose up across both the far doors and the gaping hole in the wall it had just made, blocking out all sight of the hallways beyond.

It made a horrible, choking noise, like a howl mixed together with a cough, make all the worse because it did it with all three mouths, and the sound carried on for a long time, warbling and hacking, before its throats closed. Squall was busy at least trying to get up onto the bleacher seating, one on either side of the wide rink, and it wasn't until he'd scrambled up onto the wood he realized it had said, "Enough running."

The huge monster padded slowly towards him, like it knew there was no reason to be hasty now that he was pinned in the room. All three of its tongues were lolling out of its mouths, and it was panting all out of time with itself, creating a raucous dissonance.

It made that horrible sound again, really sounding like it was choking on a bone this time, and Squall's mind translated faster, coming up with "Clever."

"All your tricks just delay the inevitable," it said, and it only took Squall a few seconds to decipher it, except now it was getting really, super incredibly uncomfortably close. "It is pathetic, that you run and dive instead of using the power you have within you." By that time, it was actually _standing in front of him_ , glaring down at him with six eerie, glowing yellow eyes.

Which, thankfully, was where Squall wanted it. _He_ didn't feel the need to monologue about it, he just released the final tether on his summon and let Leviathan crash outwards.

He was gone away, his body and mind banished back within the mind of the GF, the only sensation reaching him the feeling of water rushing over him, of water pouring _out_ of him, all of its currents and eddies surging together into a massive tidal roar.

He came back as the summon faded, a bodiless pair of eyes observing as the coils of Leviathan faded. The water tore outwards, crashing over the rink to shatter it into a hundred teetering ice floes, cracked into even smaller pieces as the wave cascaded across the floor and rebounded against the walls. The dog had gotten caught up in the main force of it and slammed against the far bleachers, shattering them into little more than kindling.

He reappeared as the summon vanished altogether, and quickly scrabbled up the remaining set of bleachers — Leviathan had left the room flooded up to his waist with saltwater, and the strange barriers around the doors were _apparently_ waterproof. Chunks of ice teetered back and forth on top of the churning water, with bits of flotsam from the destroyed bleachers bobbing against them. The summon had left behind muddy, swampy plants too: a cluster of weedy cattails bobbed forlornly next to the bleachers, and there were lily pads scattered across the length of the room.

"It was pretty foolish for the Galbadians to set a GF up as a guard against SeeD," Squall said, not entirely above gloating monologues when he was the one doing them. "We've had extensive training on combat versus things like you."

The demon dog snarled as it got to its feet, shaking its heads back and forth. Squall stooped down, letting his fingers trail through the water covering the floor, already pulling up a lightning spell.

"Yes," the monster said with two heads, almost in unison. "It certainly was foolish for the Galbadians to summon a GF, unjunctioned, to the main hall. Without any support. With most of its abilities sealed, even." It chuckled, sounding like it was choking on three bones at once. "Why, such a GF would almost surely be defeated and be used against the Galbadian Army." It waded closer though the water, sloshing near chest-deep as it stepped into the deeper water where the rink had been. "I can't imagine what the Galbadian SeeDs were thinking, using a tactic like that."

Squall just gaped as the dog trudged through the swampy water, brushing away some left-over waterlilies and cattails. "You mean..." he said, and then trailed off.

The demon dog — in retrospect, fairly obviously a GF — laughed again. "I bet you are rethinking your tactics, are you not? Hn. You ought to remember this, when someone next asks you why Guardian Forces don't respect humans." It trudged closer through the deep water. "It is because you are all stupid and shortsighted." It shrugged, an absurd expression that involved ducking its heads down and pawing at the water. "But enough talk. I am the Guardian Force called recently 'Cerberus', and we have a token battle to finish, before I can join you."

Squall's brow furrowed. "But, wait. I've gotten a lot of GFs without having to fight—" he stopped abruptly, a flush spreading across his face.

" _Have_ you," Cerberus said, chuckling. "I could tell." He paced forward through the water, until his central head was right in front of him, staring at him with his blank, glowing eyes. "Let me ask you this, then: would you prefer _that_ kind of claiming? I'd be willing either way, although..." he smirked, a surreal expression to see on a dog's face, and looked up and down Squall's frame. "You're kind of scrawny. And _small_."

"Um," Squall said.

"Clearly you're somewhat skilled, or else you never would have gotten this far to begin with," Cerberus said, his voice even more rough and grating this close up. His breath wafted out across him as he spoke, smelling of dog.

Cerberus took another step forward and the bleachers groaned under his weight. His mouth (or one of them) was _right in front_ of him, full of sharp teeth Squall could see in flashes as the dog spoke. "But I feel that it would be... _unseemly_ to just join you without testing you against my abilities... inferior as they are right now."

Squall felt bodiless again, surreally watching himself slowly lift a hand and press it against Cerberus' central head. He could feel the ache of arousal in the pit of his stomach, flaring and roiling like something was tugging at his insides. He knew, critically, that what he ought to do was finish the fight: Selphie and Laguna were still out there, probably still separated, and they were gathered together for no less a task than fulfilling SeeD's mission of defeating the Sorceress.

But at the same time it seemed impossible for him to draw his hand back from Cerberus' hide. It was almost scaled, fur only in shaggy patches, and thick, rough skin beneath that. Soaking wet, of course, and hot enough he swore he could feel humid air boiling off his body. Cerberus' other heads were looking at him as he ran his hands through the scruffy patches of fur between his strange, forked necks.

"That's good," Cerberus said with his left head, and Squall jolted back in surprise at the voice coming from almost behind him. Cerberus laughed with all his heads, then, mocking.

There was a deep growl rumbling up from Cerberus' chest as Squall ran his hands along his head and necks, feeling across the bizarre anatomy of his muscled shoulders. He felt less hesitant, or at least that's how he acted. He couldn't make up his mind about what to do, and so now low, sub-conscious part of him made up his mind for him. He stepped forward again, between two of Cerberus' heads, and reached out with both hands, trailing down across his barrel chest. His fur was thicker there, and shaggier. It ran in reddish stripes, tangled in dripping hanks.

Cerberus growled again and stepped forward, almost bowling Squall backwards. Somewhere at the ends of the bleachers he heard a sharp crack, and the wood beneath them sagged and twisted as Cerberus climbed up the staggered seats. His claws scraped across the wood and left huge gouges behind.

Squall stumbled backwards and further up in almost even time, ending up sprawled out uncomfortably on two separate levels, between Cerberus' front paws. He was practically pinned under Cerberus, and he looked up, blinking in surprise when he saw two of his heads staring down at him, his eyes firmly fixed on his body.

"Uh," Squall said, probably planning on saying _something_ , but Cerberus cut him off before he could get any further.

"Take off your clothes," he said, voice a little more grating than before.

Squall thought he had an extremely surprised expression on his face. He felt surprised. Cerberus laughed at him again, the sound just as horrible close up; Cerberus' chest rumbled against him.

At this point, it was entirely routine to strip in weird places. The bizarre structure of these scenarios was a comfort: talk to the GF, strip, fuck. He pulled off his jacket and undershirt and tossed them higher up on the bleachers, hoping the whole structure wouldn't collapse before they finished. Cerberus' eyes tracked him, his mouths leering as he reached for his belts. Squall almost didn't feel nervous this time.

"It's been a long time since I've done this," Cerberus said, like he was talking to himself. He spoke again, with a different head. "It can be an... _enjoyable_ method of finding a master."

Squall kicked his boots off without thinking, thankfully hearing only the clatter against the wood and not a splash from either of them falling into the water. He arched his hips up and tugged off his pants and underwear, wet and sticking to his skin. Cerberus growled again, his chest rumbling against Squall's body, and pressed against him. Cerberus almost knocked him back as he ground his barrel check against his body as Squall balled up his clothes and tossed them up alongside his jacket.

"Good," Cerberus said, and then after a brief pause "Further down. Slide down."

Squall looked down and swallowed, unable to really see anything other than Cerberus' stomach and his own legs. Cerberus' fur was long and tangled already, between his front legs, and the further back along his underbelly it got, the longer and more tangled it got.

Squall slowly shimmied down, clattering across the rows of bleachers below him, his hands sliding through the rough, long fur of his underbelly. His foot connected with one of Cerberus' hind legs and the dog let out a growly sound, and Squall couldn't tell if it was of annoyance, humor, arousal, or what.

Abruptly his foot made contact with the heavy, hot lump of his genitals between his legs, and Cerberus sucked in a breath like a gasp as Squall slid down beside it. It spread out hugely between his legs, his cock inside a massive bloated tube, bigger than his own body. His balls hung back behind that, massive and loose enough they rested on the bleacher seats. They were huge and oblong; his ballsack was lightly furred and thickly veined. It looked grotesque.

Squall abruptly slid down a seat, leaving him practically at eye level with Cerberus' immense dangling sheath, still limp and closed, a long tangle of grey fur above it, damp and partly matted against his stomach. Cerberus smelled like wet dog. It was oppressively humid lying beneath him. His body heat was drying himself off, slowly, even as droplets of water still dripped from his long, tangled fur.

Squall wasn't really sure what do to here; Cerberus was just so huge that he wasn't sure if he could even jerk him off, and facing some weird sheathed internal cock he really had no clue what to do. With a weird sense of resolve he reached out a hand and gently touched the rim of Cerberus' sheath.

Cerberus growled above him, his huge chest reverberating slightly as Squall slid his hand across his body. It was fiercely hot to the touch, and oddly soft. The very rim of his sheath was almost hairless; he could see mottled, splotched skin through his sparse fur.

He circled the rim of it, then failing anything else do to he reached into the thick folds of skin, pushing through his heated, damp skin until almost his entire arm was stuck inside, where he touched something inside him. Cerberus let out a sound somewhere between a bark and a howl and slammed one of his front paws down; the bleacher made another alarming snapping sound as a row higher up sagged down.

It was hot inside his sheath, and wet. The... thing he was touching, what Squall figured could only be his dick, lurched at his touch. He still wasn't too sure about what he should do, so he dragged his arm back until he only had it in to the forearm. He felt around the inside of his sheath, tracing across the tight, slick flesh of the inner wall, and Cerberus snorted and howled again above him. He had no clue what that signified. But the furry sheath bulged and shifted against his body, and from deeper he could feel Cerberus' flesh stretch and part.

He reached back into him and his hand collided unexpectedly with his cock only elbow-deep in. Cerberus growled and snarled again and his cock slowly pressed further out, almost pinning his arm inside as it pushed tightly past. Squall yanked his arm out, slick and smelling of musk, and looked up to see the bright red tip of Cerberus' dick push out of his sheath.

Squall just gaped at first. Even just barely hard, the tip of it was bigger than his head, and it thickened further as more pushed out. There was something like a dimple at the very tip, and as he stared he saw a thick silvery drop of fluid seep out. The cock bulged out, dim wrinkled skin stretching taut, looking about to split apart and burst, and even then more cock kept pushing out. The heavy droplet of fluid on the tip broke and slid down to the underside, dripping down in a long, fat string until it snapped and hit the bleachers with a loud, wet smack.

Squall reached up, slowly, like he wasn't sure what was going to happen, and pressed his slick, musky hand against the head of Cerberus' dick, along the glistening trail still slowly pouring precome. Cerberus tensed and roared again, and another fat rope of precome spurted out of his cock, part of it catching across Squall's chest. It was hot to the touch and thickly viscous; it slid slowly down his sides until it finally dripped in huge drops to the bleacher seat beneath him.

His cock was huge already, and it surged out of his sheath even more, until the tip had gone from pressing against his legs to sandwiched thickly between his chest and Cerberus' belly. Wet streams of precome ran down along the tip, dripping onto his chest and rolling down his sides. It grew further, pressing out against his head, and he opened his mouth and pressed his tongue against the side of his massive cockhead.

Cerberus tasted rank and foul, his watery precome bitter and acrid in equal measure. Squall pulled back, grimacing, but he couldn't get the taste out of his mouth. As if to add insult, Cerberus' cock spat out a wet string of precome across his face, shooting in a line across his lips and dribbling into his nose, and abruptly all he could smell or taste, drowning out even the seawater and wet dog, was the bitter, slimy precome.

Squall grimaced, instinctively spitting to get the taste out of his mouth, but it was still there, cloying and gross. It didn't fade so much as mellow slightly as his brain started filtering out everything but the salt tang in the back of his mouth. Cerberus thrust his cock, the various parts of the bleacher making ominous creaking sounds as he shifted the weight on his paws, and Squall opened up again, lapping along the side of his immense cockhead.

The shaggy fur of Cerberus' underbelly scrubbed against Squall's head as he leaned back slightly, the still-growing erection effectively pinning him to the bleacher seats. It was as big as he was, as long as his entire body and thicker around than his chest was wide. Just his cockhead was bigger around than his torso, and as Squall tentatively reached out to grasp the sides of his bloated shaft the dimpled hole at the tip opened wide and a heavier gout of precome shot out, slapping against the side of his head. Squall flinched back, squinting with one eye open as precome dripped down the side of his face, and grabbed at the damp, heated sides of Cerberus' cock, not entirely sure what he should — or could — do. It was just so absurdly huge.

Leaning forward, Squall licked at the underside of his cockhead, grimacing again at the foul taste. He licked up the sloped point of it, past the dimpled hole, until he was lapping across the upper rim of his cockhead, the pointed tip of it jabbing against his neck. Cerberus growled above and behind him, and Squall wasn't sure if that was good or not until his cock shot out a particularly thick streamer of precome across his neck. Squall jerked back, surprised, and it snapped its connecting webs from the head of Cerberus' dick and slapped down on his neck to slowly ooze down to his chest. Squall touched the thick slime gingerly, kind of inwardly amused and disgusted that he could catalog various forms of thick, stringy precome from the _other_ GFs he'd already had sex with. Cerberus' pre was thick and tightly cohesive, slug-like as it slowly oozed down his neck, but before he could get _too_ involved in mentally filing it Cerberus' cock twitched in front of his face and above him, he made a less pleased-sounding growl. Or what Squall assumed was a less pleased-sounding growl; it certainly sounded _different_ from the one before.

His sense of taste was more aggressively filtering out Cerberus' precome, thankfully, and it just tasted bitter and vaguely metallic, devoid of the rich layers of organic rankness he'd tasted before. Squall lapped across the upper rim of his cockhead again, and got another thick rope of precome shot across his neck for his efforts, followed by a slight increase in the thin, watery precome dripping out of his cockhead. Squall licked in a broad stripe along the underside of Cerberus' cock and pulled back just in time to get a third heavy, jiggling rope of come across his face, thick enough that he could actually pull it off and let it fall to the bleacher slats with a wet smack.

Squall turned his head aside as he ran his hands across Cerberus' cockhead and shaft, a few more slugs of precome shooting over his shoulder to hit the bleachers with soggy smacking noises. It was kind of gross, but he was almost getting... acclimated to it. At least Cerberus' gigantic, blood-red, thickly veined cock seemed a little less gross and a little more hot. Even the metal-and-rank taste of his come was... not good or even _acceptable_ , but enough for him to realize he was getting hard himself, as he ran his hands across the heated, bulging shaft of Cerberus' cock as watery precome drizzled out across his chest, interrupted occasionally by the shots of thicker, mucus-like precome. That was still pretty gross.

But Squall slid down, completely sandwiching himself between the bleachers and the human-sized cock above him, his face grinding against the underside of his cockhead, precome streaming down into his face. His own cock was rock hard, grinding against Cerberus' shaft lower down, and he thrust against it, grinding against the huge mass of cock with his entire body, his arms wrapped tight just past the rim of his cockhead.

Cerberus' cock jerked in his grasp, and it was strong enough to make him lurch upwards and then come back hard against the bleachers, enough force to knock the breath from his lungs and make him spend a moment gasping and spluttering while precome ran down across his face. Squall slid down further, down half a bleacher step so that his upper body was recessed a little from Cerberus' huge cock. His bare feet were finally close enough to touch his bloated sheath, and that was when he really got a grasp of just how _big_ he was. Not just person-sized, but _bigger_ than that by half as much. It was so absurdly colossal it seemed laughable; a cock the size of a particularly huge person.

It would have been more laughable if he hadn't found himself being really turned on by it. He'd figured he'd kind of dealt with his weird GF-related desires, but evidently his sexuality was always waiting to spring something new on him. His cock was rock hard even though he hadn't touched it since he stripped. Now that he was grinding, breathless, against the sides of Cerberus' immensely huge cock, he was getting _turned on_. The air under Cerberus was humid and smelled of wet dog, and dimly Squall wondered if he could use brain damage caused by lack of oxygen as an excuse for being so ridiculously turned on before his somewhat more rational mind pointed out that there wasn't anyone there to be disgusted by him.

He still flushed red when he tightened his hold on Cerberus' cock, pressing his body against it again, and opened his mouth wide to kiss along its red, veined length, slick with precome. It still tasted gross; that was actually some consolation; but he slid down further, until he was almost trapped under his immense balls again. Near his sheath, his shaft bulged out, extra fleshy chambers pressing outward and making his cock look even more like some twisted internal organ, red and internal and bulging in weird, inhuman ways.

His sheath was taut, short stiff hairs scattered across the very rim of it, over the mottled grey skin, and the hair got more and more dense across the length of it until it was a shaggy mess where it actually met his hind legs. Below that, his balls hung down, each one alone probably enough to crush someone to death if Cerberus really tried, and together they were a massive lumpy _thing_ , his sack loose enough that the balls themselves rested against the creaking bleachers.

He reached out to the thick, leathery skin and scrubbed his hand across Cerberus' lightly furred balls. A loud, wet splatter from behind him told him that Cerberus had liked that, at least, so he rubbed harder, across his huge ballsack and sheath. Cerberus growled and snapped his teeth, more wet gushing, splattering noises sounding from his cock. His sheath was pliant enough for him to jerk it back and forth along the base of his shaft if he used both arms, his cock big enough that even with both arms he could only grasp his wrists around its base.

Squall's face pressed against the base of it, just past where it pushed out of his sheath, beneath the bloated chambers at the base. He smeared his face across the slimy, sticky shaft, lapping up his stringy, rank precome as it flowed down his cock in rivulets. He shimmied upwards, back towards the tip, and he couldn't even fit his arms around the bulge in his shaft. He tried jerking him off, vaguely, sliding his slippery arms back and forth around his shaft as he worked his way up, until he was clear of the bulge and he could links his arms together again.

There was a thick tube running along the base of Cerberus' cock, firm enough his chest pressed against it only dimpled slightly, and it pulsed out steadily as he slid his way back up his immense cock, driving the breath from his lungs each time. He took in wet, slobbery breaths, precome streaming down across his face and chest in increasing amounts the closer to the tip he got.

His knees knocked against the bulge at the base of Cerberus' cock and he howled, a particularly strong surge of his cock slamming Squall down against the bleachers. Looking up, he could see fat, heavy ropes of precome lance out the tip of his cock, completely covering the bleacher seats in a heavy coating. More streamed down the underside of his cock, coating his head and shoulders in the thick, goopy fluid. Squall clenched his knees around Cerberus' cock, like he was riding an animal, and he howled again, his cock lurching up and down and slamming him back against the bleachers with enough force to bruise. A wet flood of precome slid down across his body a few seconds later, covering him even more completely than before.

Squall inched his way up the immense cock, keeping his body locked tightly around the shaft. His own cock ground against Cerberus', the throb of the demon dog's heartbeat through his cock strong enough to squeeze his bloated flesh around his cock, massaging it with each beat. Squall arched back and ground his cock hard against Cerberus as his arms finally closed around the underside of his cockhead, the fat ridge hard and flared outward as his cock poured out precome by the bucket. His face was covered by the precome sluicing out of his cock, long strings of it sliding down his neck and shoulders and jiggling from his back.

Fully hard, Cerberus' cockhead was even more immense than before. The tip was an even darker red, almost purplish in hue, and the ridge of his cockhead was as thick as his hand was wide. His flesh was rock hard, and as Squall caressed over the bloated rim of his cock the dimple at the tip of his cock opened wide and let out another massive burst of precome, all of it splattering solidly against his chest with enough force to bruise. The heavy mass of precome splattered down across his body, coating his aching cock in layers of precome.

Squall couldn't even bring himself to jerk himself off, so busy rubbing his slick, slimy hands across Cerberus' cockhead. The smell of it was almost entirely filtered out, all he could smell and taste was the hot bleachy salt of it, completely pervading his senses. Cerberus growled again and his cock shot off another immense burst of fluid, and this time Squall slid his hand up across the flat, sloped tip of his cock and felt the puckered cockslit, slick with effluence.

He pushed against it tentatively and was almost surprised when it gave easily, admitting one of his fingers inside. It was so slick inside he hilted his finger automatically, his knuckles jarring against Cerberus' cockhead. Above him, the demon dog howled again, and his cockslit gaped open around his finger with a rubbery spurt as precome shot out around his hand in all directions. Squall gaped, spitting precome from his mouth as he braced himself against Cerberus' cock with his other hand, then wiggled his finger around.

Cerberus was growling and snapping at the air with all three heads as Squall gently slid his finger around the inside of his cock, then pulled it out. His cockslit remained gaping open for a brief moment, revealing the bright purplish-red flesh inside, before it closed with a slurp and a burble of precome. Squall slid his fingers around the hard curve of his cockhead, then nocked two of his fingers against the dimpled hole. It was almost shocking how easily his fingers fit inside, precome spurting out in loud, wet slurps around the uneven obstruction of his fingers. Squall slid his two fingers back and forth, the rest curled around his palm, their knuckles pressing against Cerberus' massive cockhead as he plunged his fingers in deep. Thick, stringy arcs of precome spurted out, webbing between his hand and Cerberus' cock, eventually snapping and splattering down across his chest.

This time, when his fingers slipped out they were followed immediately by a thick, heated blast of precome, all across his face and shoulders. He didn't even want to try and think about it; Squall just leaned forward and pressed his head against his immense, dark red cockhead, his face already smeared with precome as he lapped up more of the rank fluid, more of it slobbering out of his mouth as he desperately ground his cock against the immense shaft he was pinned against. His precome tasted as awful as it ever had, thick and chunky, with a taste like the worst parts of the smell of wet dog and old sweat mixed together, but it was... an acquired taste. Squall wasn't thinking about any of that; he was avoiding thinking about anything as he pressed his tongue flat against Cerberus' cockhead and licked upwards, the thick lather of his precome gathering on his tongue and overflowing across his cheeks.

His tongue ran over the fat dimple of his cockslit, more than a mouthful of precome blasting out across his lips and chin, and he pressed his face harder against that immense cock, his tongue pressing against the hole as his lips pursed against his hard, rigid flesh. He opened his mouth and precome shot in, splattering against the back of his mouth, and he almost choked before he swallowed. He licked across his spurting cockslit, pressing hard, and his tongue slipped into the opening, flooding his mouth with the heavy, rancid taste of his precome.

Cerberus' cockslit spread wide as he pressed his tongue inside, heavy bursts of precome spurting out across his face and down his neck, but he grasped the rim of his flared cockhead and pushed deeper, his cockslit spreading so wide his lips pushed in too, precome spraying across his face and up his nose, making him hold his breath until he had to pull back, gasping. The slight dimple of his cockslit had swollen to a broad circle, precome shooting out with enough force to sting as it hit his neck, and through the sloppy mess he slid his hands around and forward, until his fingers were curled around the tip, his fingertips just barely curling inside the wide opening.

He could barely believe he was about to do it, but his brain still felt suspended, left behind, and it didn't even feel like he thought about it or chose to do it when he pushed his hand forward. His fingers slipped up inside Cerberus' cockhead with the same effortless ease as before. His three heads all growled and roared above him, but it sounded like a _good_ roar. More precome than he thought possible spurted out around his fingers, oozing hot and thick and slippery across his hand and down his wrist. He wiggled his fingers and pushed deeper, amazed at how _easy_ his fingers fit inside.

Four fingers in and the crest of his hand pushed it practically without any effort, and when his thumb pressed against the side of his cockhead it seemed the plain thing to do to slide it up through the slick mess of precome and push it in alongside. His entire hand slipped in with bewildering ease. He could feel Cerberus' cock pulsing, the tight contractions of muscle from inside him that sent precome gushing up, spraying out in all directions around his hand. It was slick and hot inside, and he was absurdly acutely aware of the hair across his forearm sliding against the walls of his cock as his hand slipped deeper.

His mouth was hanging open, precome dripping from his chin as it sprayed across his face. His forearm was halfway in when it finally felt tight, Cerberus' cockslit open wide, the skin taut and red, shining, as it stretched around his forearm, until with a wet slurp and a massive gush of precome his arm slipped in to the elbow. Cerberus was panting above him, harsh choking noises as his breath rasped into his mouths. Squall wiggled his fingers and Cerberus lurched forward, his elbow smacking soundly against the pointed tip of his cock as he was driven back against the seating, a heavy plug of precome building up past his hand.

He could feel it, Cerberus' urethra bulging outward, his hand immersed in precome as it spurted and sluiced down along his arm, a wet dribble making its way past. His own cock was rock hard, grinding against the underside of Cerberus', and he could feel his urethra bulge on the outside too, bloating outward as his precome backed up. He thrust against it, grinding his cock against its groove, his entire body feeling slimy and slick, coated in his musky, rancid precome.

Squall couldn't keep going any longer; he wanted to _come_ , too impatient to keep the agonizing haze of pleasure going for much longer. His cock was just a few touches away from coming, and Cerberus was close too, his tongues lolling out as he panted and thrust his hips, battering Squall against the cracked, sagging bleacher seats. His arm emerged from his cock with a wet slurp and a gush of precome, a sluggish wave of it pouring out across his chest, more than enough to completely cover his body in the slick, thick fluid.

He ground against the underside of Cerberus' cock, his cock smeared thickly with precome. He thrust shudderingly, his cock skewing along his bulging veins. He grasped hold of Cerberus' shaft, both arms needed to wrap around it, and jerked his entire body up and down the immense cock. His feet kicked against the swollen bulge near the base and he got another faceful of precome, just more heavy, rancid musk splattering into his mouth as he panted and moaned. His own voice sounded strange in his ears, not just in intonation but in _timbre_ , harsher and more excited.

Squall pushed himself down Cerberus' cock, its immense head flared and drooling precome constantly. He wrapped his legs around the shaft, locking them around the swollen bulge at the base of his cock, and jerked his arms back and forth, moving his entire body around the cock. He was so close to coming, his cock thrusting against the bottom of the shaft, hot and slick, and he knew Cerberus was just as close. His entire body was coated in his foul precome and the smell hit him somewhere back in his sinuses, behind his nose. It wasn't _nice_ , but it was hot, somehow, and he was almost turned on enough to not think of how he must look, flushed and naked and smeared in foul, thick clumping fluid, his cock flushed and red as he thrust against a cock bigger than he was.

He came with a wet gasp, spitting and almost coughing as he inhaled some of the precome flowing across his face. His cock shot off, his own load lost in the mess slicking down his body, but he still felt it spray across his stomach, or against Cerberus' cock in white flecks, the actual ejaculation over after a few spurts, but the flushed, euphoric feeling afterwards cascaded through him, every nerve feeling on fire, and it hadn't even started to ebb by the time Cerberus let out an off-key trio of howls and his cock jerked hard. He snarled and growled, paws crashing down on the remaining planks of bleacher seating and snapping them like twigs, both of them dropping down almost to water level.

His cock rocked back and forth, bobbing in mid-air, and Squall clung even tighter to it, all his body weight barely enough to pull it down slightly. The entire massive cock _flared_ , the shaft swelling larger as the head snapped outward, the fat rim becoming thicker and wider. Cerberus came in ropes, come spraying out with a loud gurgle; Squall's head was just under the head of his cock. The first rope hit the wall behind them with a loud, wet smack, and after that it was a constant loud noise, wet and smacking or a loud patter as his load hosed into the water. Come drooled down his shaft and all across Squall from his spread-wide cockslit.

The bulge at the base of his cock flared out too, becoming a massive fat bulge, hard and hot, engorged with blood. It almost knocked Squall's legs loose and he clenched tighter, eliciting a shaking roar from Cerberus as his cock shot again with more force, gushing audibly from his distended cockslit. His entire cock jolted back from the recoil, bobbing up and down, and Squall got another faceful of come, a heavy, hanging rope of it smacking against the side of his face and drooling around to the back of his neck. He squeezed his legs again, locking his ankles together around the immense bulge, and Cerberus roared and snorted again, smacking at the water with one of his paws as his cock let out another huge blast of come, spraying into the water and up the wall, more of it hanging down from the tip of his cock to jiggle and stretch down slowly until it smacked against Squall's slick back and stuck.

Cerberus kept coming, his cock jerking and spraying, until Squall was just as thickly smeared with his come as he had been with his precome, and what had to be a dozen times that had completely missed him, shot into the water or against the wall, which was now a sluggish waterfall, come oozing down in slow streams. But his cock didn't soften at all, and his sprays of come were replaced with a constant stream of precome again, pouring start down with occasional shallow spurts when Squall would move, sending his cock swinging back and forth. He could feel the muscles in Cerberus' stomach and below his hips still twitch, shooting this thin, lathered precome in a constant stream.

Squall ground his softening cock against Cerberus' and looked to the side, blinking multiple times until he could actually open his eyes, lashes frosted over with come. He clambered off his cock and onto the wrecked bleachers. His hands and arms were dripping with a slurry of come and precome — his entire body was — and trying to brush it off only made it smear more, so he settled for squinting as come ran down his face. Cerberus was panting with all three heads, standing still in the water as his cock spurted still. It was hard to believe he'd really been wrapped around it; it was bloated huge, and the bulge at the base looked obscenely large. It was wreathed up and down in thick clumps of come, stuck across the bright red and veined length in smeared waves.

Squall had to catch his breath, swallowing repeatedly until the inside of his mouth didn't feel sticky and thick. Cerberus seemed to notice him then, although with only one head. The closest swung up to look at him. His eyes were half-lidded, and even the burning yellow glow seemed dimmer, flickering.

"Well done," he said, and for once Squall could actually hear what he was saying as he said it. "I _much_ prefer this to the standard fight." He looked Squall up and down, and Squall fought the urge to blush as he stared at his cock, turgid and half-hard between his legs. Even after fucking — even after fucking _the way they had_ — it seemed more intimate somehow to just look at each other naked, flushed and sweaty than to actually fuck.

Cerberus lumbered closer to him, sloshing waves of cloudy water, glistening threads of his half-dissipated come visible as his paws stirred up the settled muck. "I suppose I'll join you, then," he said, and butted his nose against Squall's chest with enough force to send him sprawling backwards onto the sloped and sagging boards. When he got up, Cerberus was already half-gone, translucent. "There's a shower room," he said with a flick of his shaggy head, showering Squall with droplets of sweat, or water, or who knew what, that had gathered across his body. "You might find it a good idea to make use of it before rejoining your companions," he said with a final smirk, before he faded away and the growing tingle of a new junction surged into an electric jolt, the feeling as disturbingly erotic as all of his junctions had been recently.

He staggered to the locker room, leaving behind a dribbled trail of come, and mindlessly washed himself, jerking off twice, arcing and shuddering as he replayed what had just happened. Except it was 'replaying', it was as if his mind was stuck in a loop, endlessly going over and over again across it, so recent he felt like he was practically reliving every touch, every wet trickle of Cerberus' foul come across his body. He finally shut the water off and slumped forward against the wall, hands working against his erect, aching cock as he came again, load dribbling out across his hand and dripping to the floor. He swallowed thickly, unable to stop thinking about it.

He could at least walk steadily on his way out, to the wreck of the bleachers where his clothes were waiting, all thankfully unharmed, if slightly wet. He tugged his damp underwear back on, desperately wanting to sprawl out across the broken boards and jerk off again, his body shuddering and aching as he breathed in the lingering stench Cerberus had left behind, but he kept dressing, even as his cock stiffened and he flushed hot all across his face.

His clothes stuck to his skin, and he already felt flushed and sweaty in the swamplike humidity. But sweaty was better than coated in Cerberus' come. He schooled his face, his blush slowly receding as he trudged through the muddy slick left across the floor, skirting the edge of the silty pond where the ice rink had been.

He... well, he had a mission to accomplish. He had to find Irvine and Selphie, and after everything was done he could afford to think more about... about what had happened. His cock was awkward inside his pants, half-hard and chafing against his damp underwear, but he struggled to ignore it. He didn't really want to own up to how he'd just spent who knew how long fucking a gigantic monster thing instead of being a responsible SeeD Commander, and so he didn't think about it; he pushed that thought to the back of his mind and thought: what now? He had to resume the mission, and catch up with the rest of his team, and defeat the Sorceress. He didn't (shouldn't) have time for anything else.

He called on Cerberus effortlessly, the great beast's power lighting up the trails Selphie and Irvine had left behind, and set out to find them, leaving the destroyed room behind him.


End file.
